I 


THE 


NEUTRAL    FRENCH; 


OR, 


THE  EXILES  OF  NOVA  SCOTIA. 


By  MBS.  WILLIAMS, 

Author  of  "  Religion  at  Home."  "  Revolutionary  Biography,"  &c.  &c. 


lx> !  Tyranny  strides  on  with  step  accurst 
Trampling  her  million  victims  in  the  dust ! 
But  God,  the  mighty  God,  shall  hear  their  cries. 
And  bid  the  Star  of  Liberty  arise  !  —  ED. 

"  The  cold  in  clime  are  cold  in  blood."  —  BTRO jr. 


TWO  VOLUMES  IN  ONE. 


PROVIDENCE: 
PUBLISHED  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


r  i 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1841, 

By  C.  R.  WILLIAMS, 
In  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  of  Rhode  Island, 


B.  Cranston  &  Co.,  Printers. 


DEDICATION. 


To  the  Hon.  JOHN  F  AIRFIELD,  late  Governor  of 
Maine,  this  work  is  most  respectfully  dedicated  by 
his  grateful  friend,  the  Author,  not  only  as  a  tribute 
of  esteem  for  his  public  and  private  virtues,  but  a 
small  acknowledgment  of  his  politeness  in  facilita 
ting  her  inquiries  into  the  history  of  the  interesting 
people  of  whom  it  treats. 

The  Author  indulges  the  hope,  that  the  deep 
sympathy  in  their  wrongs  and  unmerited  afflictions, 
domestic  as  well  as  national,  expressed  to  her  by 
one  who  is  an  enemy  to  oppression  in  every  form, 
and  an  example  in  all  the  endearing  relations  of 
social  life,  will  not  be  lessened  by  the  perusal  of 
the  story  in  which  she  has  attempted  to  embody 
their  history. 


269058 


PREFACE. 


Ix  the  following  traditionary  Tale,  a  very  imperfect 
narration  of  which  has  come  to  the  author  of  this,  the 
reader  will  perceive  the  attempt  to  embody  the  history  of 
a  people  long  since  extinct  as  a  nation,  though  found  still, 
in  scattered  fragments,  in  various  parts  of  the  British 
provinces  in  North  America,  in  the  "  disputed  territory," 
and  sometimes  incorporated  with  the  Indian  tribes. 

In  giving  a  history  of  the  forcible  expulsion  of  the 
Acadians,  or  Neutral  French,  from  the  province  of  Nova 
Scotia,  or  New  Scotland,  we  shall  be  compelled  to  dwell 
upon  scenes  to  which  the  history  of  the  civilized  world 
affords  no  parallel.  The  cruel  sufferings  of  the  modern 
Greeks,  under  the  ruthless  Turks,  bear  no  affinity  to  it. 
The  Greeks  were  tortured  and  almost  exterminated  by 
Mahomedans,  persons  professing  a  creed  that  sanctions 
deeds  of  blood,  that  despises  all  other  of  every  form  of 
religion,  and  that  classes  Christians  with  dogs.  The 
Turkish  government,  too,  were  dealing  with  subjects  in 
open  rebellion,  and  the  outrages  were  perpetrated  in  the 
heat  of  battle. 

In  the  late  history  of  Poland,  Russia  dealt  with  an 
ever-threatening  foe,  a  people  hostile  and  implacable  to 
them ;  a  people  who,  though  possessed  of  many  noble 
characteristics,  were  yet  fierce  and  warlike,  brave  and 
persevering;  and  who,  taking  the  sword,  had  to  perish 
with  the  sword.  Not  so  the  hapless  Acadians,  the  peace 
ful,  gentle,  and  long-enduring  inhabitants  of  Nova  Scotia. 
The  injuries  they  sustained  were  inflicted  in  cold  blood — 
in  open  and  shameless  violation  of  treaties,  most  solemnly 
guaranteeing  to  them  protection,  their  liberties  as  free 
men,  the  free  exercise  of  their  religion,  and  the  protection 
of  their  property. 

1* 


VI  PREFACE. 

It  is  painful  to  dwell  upon  such  scenes,  though  perhaps 
salutary.  (  If  there  is  no  gratitude  in  republics,  there  is 
no  good  faith  or  honesty  in  monarchies.)  The  throne,  it 
appears,  is  constantly  surrounded  by  a  set  of  cormorants, 
whom  nothing  can  satisfy,  and  Grant  after  Grant  is  obliged 
to  be  dispensed  until  there  is  nothing  more  to  give,  except 
the  privilege  of  plundering  one  another  ;  that  is,  the  priv 
ilege  to  the  strong  to  plunder  the  weak.  The  rapacity 
of  the  colonists  had  not  only,  in  many  instances,  obtained 
large  Grants  of  land  in  the  new  world,  but  was  still  desir 
ing  more;  and  the  credit  of  plundering  and  dispersing  the 
people  we  are  speaking  of,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
their  lands,  is  very  generally  accorded  them.  No  possi 
ble  excuse  can,  however,  be  made  for  the  British  Govern 
ment  in  permitting  such  an  outrage,  such  a  violation  of 
all  rules  of  justice,  equity,  and  humanity. 

It  is  useless,  at  this  time  of  day,  to  pretend  that  a  few 
interested  and  avaricious  individuals  were  alone  culpable 
in  the  affairs  of  the  Neutral  French,  for  full  proof  even 
yet  exists,  that  they  did  what  was  done  by  the  authority 
of  the  English  King,  George  the  Second,  and  under  his 
hand  and  seal ;  and  that  when,  after  the  deed  was  com 
pleted,  and  the  remnant  of  those  who  survived  drew  up  a 
memorial  of  their  sufferings  in  the  land  whither  they  were 
banished,  and  sent  it  on  to  his  successor,  George  the 
Third,  it  was  rejected  with  cool  indifference,  ,ind  they 
left  to  perish,  or  exist  by  the  charities  of  those  they  were 
among,  as  chance  might  direct. 

In  collecting  the  facts  given  in  the  historical  part  of 
this  book,  the  author  has  been  much  assisted  by  reference 
to  the  manuscript  papers  in  the  library  of  the  "  Massa 
chusetts  Historical  Society,"  to  which  she  had  access, 
and  was  politely  permitted  not  only  to  peruse,  but  take 
notes  from,  and  for  which  she  takes  this  opportunity  of 
tendering  them  her  very  sincere  thanks.  Some  facts 
have  been  gained  from  William  Lincoln,  Esq.,  of  Wor 
cester,  who  has  lately  lectured  on  this  subject  before  the 
"  Rhode  Island  Historical  Society."  His  lectures  con 
tained  a  vast  deal  of  information,  and  some  excellent 
remarks.  Some  other  facts,  also,  have  been  obtained  from 
the  kindness  and  research  of  Mr.  Williamson,  author  of 
the  "  History  of  Maine."  From  Halliburton  we  have 


PREFACE.  Vll 

drawn  largely  ;  and  by  the  politeness  of  Mr.  Bigelovv, 
Secretary  of  State  for  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachu 
setts,  have  been  assisted  to  obtain  from  the  papers  in  his 
office  some  of  their  later  history. 

In  treating  of  the  Indian  character  in  our  story,  it  will 
be  seen  that  we  have  looked  but  little  on  the  dark  side  of 
the  picture;  the  story  did  not  require  it,  and  their  deeds 
of  blood  are  too  well  known  to  need  the  recital  of  them 
here.  The  fact  that  they  were  almost  uniformly  kind  to  U- 
the  French,  the  Indians  accounted  for  by  saying  "  it  was 
because  they  never  cheated  them,  and  always  fulfilled 
their  contracts." 

We  cannot,  however,  leave  the  subject  of  the  Indians 
without  reverting  to  the  expressions  of  pity  and  sympathy 
so  often  bestowed  upon  them  by  our  neighbors  on  the 
other  side  of  the  border,  in  view  of  the  late  arrangement 
for  removing  them  to  the  West  by  the  Government  of  the 
United  States.  Whether  the  arrangement  may  prove 
wise  or  unwise,  as  respects  the  safety  of  the  white  inhab 
itants,  time  alone  can  show.  But  as  it  respects  the  hu 
manity  of  the  measure  towards  themselves,  we  have  ever 
been  satisfied  of  its  principle.  The  tribes  in  the  vicinity 
of  white  settlements  were  fast  degenerating,  and  seemed, 
in  most  instances,  to  have  adopted  all  the  vices,  without 
any  of  the  virtues,  of  their  white  neighbors.  Those  who 
were  about  half  civilized,  were,  in  general,  some  of  the 
most  slothful,  filthy,  and  disgusting  part  of  the  popula 
tion.  It  was  thought,  by  most  people,  that  the  Indian 
character  had  fast  deteriorated,  and  as  ttheir  numbers 
seemed  to  dwindle  in  proportion,  that,  unless  some  plan 
could  be  contrived  to  preserve  them  as  a  people,  and 
where  they  would  not  be  abridged  of  all  their  former 
pleasures  and  habits,  they  must  inevitably  be  extinct  in 
a  few  centuries.  Hundreds  of  poor  white  families  would 
have  rejoiced  to  have  been  the  subjects  of  such  a  pro 
vision  as  was  made  for  them  in  their  removal.  They 
were  not  robbed  of  their  possessions,  as  the  full  value 
of  them  was  given  in  good  lands  in  the  fertile  valleys 
of  the  West.  They  were  conducted  to  them  by  a  safe 
escort,  every  facility  offered  them  for  cultivating  them, 
and  a  year's  provision  found  on  lands  that,  with  slight 
Jabor,  would  produce  two  crops  a  year.  The  greatest 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

care  was  taken  io  have  all  the  members  of  families  go 
together,  and  for  their  personal  comfort  while  on  the 
road.  They  are  allowed  to  govern  themselves  in  their 
respective  tribes,  and  yet  are  under  the  protection  of  the 
General  Government.  Every  facility  is  given  the  benev 
olent  missionary  to  minister  among  them,  and  to  all 
others  whom  kindness  and  humanity  impel  to  aid  them. 

And  ibr  all  this,  shall  we  be  accused  of  barbarity  I 
And  by  those,  too,  who  have  driven  an  innocent,  confid 
ing,  and  unoffending  people  into  banishment,  stripped  of 
their  property  without  remuneration,  separated  wantonly 
from  each  other,  driven  among  a  strange  people,  lighted 
from  their  native  shores  by  the  blaze  of  their  own  dwel 
lings,  and  left  unsuccored  and  unprovided  for,  either  to 
perish  with  want  or  be  relieved  by  the  charities  of  stran 
gers  ?  We  think  for  one  that  the  charge,  though  baseless 
in  itself,  would  come  better  from  some  other  quarter. 

"  But,"  say  my  English  readers,  "  there  are  your 
slaves."  True,  and  who  made  them  slaves  in  the  first 
place?  Who  entailed  this  curse  upon  our  land,  and 
taught  us  we  could  not  do  without  it  ?  Who  resisted  the 
remonstrances  of  the  people  of  Virginia,  and  other  colo 
nies,  not  to  impose  them  upon  the  white  population,  and 
continue  to  inundate  them  by  fresh  importations,  many, 
many  years  since  ?  It  is  hard  to  compel  people  to  adopt 
customs,  and  when  habit  has  made  them  almost  indispen 
sable,  to  compel  them  to  drop  them,  and  that  too  because 
those  who  first  introduced  them,  afterwards,  in  some  freak 
of  benevolence,  forbid  them,  and  begin  to  call  them  hard 
names;  by  the  way,  the  very  worst  way  ever  taken  to 
convince  any  one  of  their  errors. 

We  are  not  advocates  for  the  principle  of  slavery ;  on 
the  contrary,  we  think  the  first  man  that  ever  brought 
slaves  here,  yea,  the  second  and  the  third,  ought  to  be 
condemned  ;  but  we  cry  the  mercy  of  our  English  neigh 
bors,  who  have  so  much  to  say  on  the  subject,  and  entreat 
them  not  to  compare  our  southern  slaveholders  to  theirs 
of  the  West  Indies,  from  whose  ruthless  and  bloorl-stained 
hands  (by  their  own  account)  they  have  just  taken  the 
lash.  There  is  a  difference  in  the  people  of  the  two 
regions.  The  one,  proud,  aristocratic,  and  domineering 
by  nature,  and  from  precept  and  example.  The  other. 


PREFACE.  IX 

highminded  and  gentlemanly  in  leed,  but  altogether  dif 
ferent,  from  cherishing  the  principles  of  liberty,  and  feel 
ing  that  every  oth::r  gentleman  is  his  equal.  The  south 
ern  planter  of  the  United  States  resides  on  his  plantation, 
among  his  slaves,  entirely  surrounded  by  them,  and  con 
sidering  himself  as  the  head  of  a  great  family,  between 
whom  and  himself  he  wishes  there  should  be  a  bond  of 
affection  as  well  as  of  interest.  Now  it  stands  to  reason, 
that,  exposed  as  they  must  be  to  the  revengeful  passions 
of  their  slaves,  if  ill  used,  that  they  would  endeavor  to 
use  them  well,  and  make  their  bondage  easy,  and  their 
yoke  light:  the  lives  of  the  whole  family  would  not  be  safe 
an  hour  were  it  otherwise.  The  West  India  planter,  on 
the  contrary,  seldom  resides  on  his  plantation,  leaving  the 
direction  entirely  to  mercenary  overseers ;  and  when,  for 
a  term  of  years,  they  sometimes  consent  to  remain  there, 
it  is  to  hurry  the  business  of  amassing  property,  that  he 
may  return  and  spend  it  in  England,  while  the  overtasked 
and  overworked  slave  derives  no  benefit  from  the  visit, 
and  consequently  feels  no  gratitude,  no  tie  of  affection. 
The  slaves  of  the  United  States,  for  the  most  part  belong 
ing  in  a  family  from  generation  to  generation,  have  the 
.-*ame  kind  of  feelings  for  the  families  of  their  owners, 
that  they  describe  the  old  servants  and  retainers  on  an 
estate  in  England  to  feel  for  the  owners.  The  name  of 
slave  is,  to  be  sure,  very  shocking ;  but  names  do  not  alter 
things,  and  it  is  a  certain  fact,  that  in  the  amount  of 
time  bestowed  in  labor,  they  do  not  work  as  many  hours 
in  the  twemy-four  as  our  mechanics,  or  those  who  work 
in  manufactories;  and  as  respects  their  "state  of  moral 
degradation,"  their  morals,  as  a  body,  are  much  better 
than  those  of  the  free  colored  population  at  the  North; 
and  it  takes  about  a  dozen  house-servants,  \vho  are  slaves, 
at  the  South,  to  do  what  one  good  white  servant  performs 
at  the  North.  Thus  much  is  true ;  the  inference,  of 
course,  every  one  is  at  liberty  to  make. 

We  have  wandered  from  our  subject,  and  we  beg  par 
don.  We  were  going  to  say  that  our  readers  are  at 
perfect  liberty  to  believe  any  part  of  the  Tale  here  narra 
ted,  embellished,  if  they  choose,  it  is  a  matter  of  great 
indifference  to  us;  but  not  so  with  the  historical  facts 
connected  with  it.  We  shall  give  in  it  a  true,  though 


X  PREFACE. 

faint  description  of  that  people  whose  sufferings  and  vir 
tues  we  are  about  to  commemorate — of  their  oppressions, 
persecutions,  privations,  exactions,  and  so  forth,  previous 
to,  and  at  the  time  of,  their  banishment  from  their  beloved 
and  beautiful  Acadia,  and  as  far  as  we  can  come  at  the 
particulars  of  their  desolation,  suffering,  and  abandon 
ment  after  their  arrival  in  the  States,  the  thousandth  part 
of  which  can  never  be  known.  Their  stories,  for  the 
most  part,  have  gone  down  to  the  grave  with  them,  and 
will  never  be  rescued  from  oblivion. 

Alas !  alas  !  for  a  people  once  so  happy,  so  comforta 
ble,  so  innocent  and  unoffending  ;  for  a  people  who,  since 
the  days  of  the  patriarchs,  have  been  the  only  families  of 
believers  who  have  lived  in  perfect  simplicity,  without 
any  of  those  cravings  after  riches  that  mars  the  peace, 
distracts  the  mind,  and  sullies  the  conscience  of  all  other 
people  upon  the  civilized  earth.  The  goadings  of  ambi 
tion  and  envy,  as  a  necessary  accompaniment  to  the  thirst 
for  gain,  were  unknown  to  them.  Blessed  privilege! 
happy  people !  could  it  be  possible  that  in  such  a  corrupt 
place  as  our  earth,  you  could  have  flourished  long  ?  Could 
he,  who  looked  upon  the  Garden  of  Paradise,  when  our 
first  parents  were  innocent  and  happy,  with  an  envious 
eye,  have  borne  to  look  on  you  ? 

There  is,  however,  a  prevailing  belief,  and  a  very  grat 
ifying  one,  that  the  author  of  this  will  be  a  pioneer  in 
hunting  up  the  history  of  this  much-injured  people;  and 
she  cannot  but  flatter  herself  that  some  Paulding,  perhaps 
an  Irving,  whose  means  of  information  may  be  more 
extensive  than  her  own,  may  drag  forth  from  the  lumber 
of  ages,  some  important  facts  connected  with  them,  as 
yet  unsung,  and  present  them  in  a  fairer  form. 


INTRODUCTION. 


PERHAPS  there  is  not  a  place  on  the  habitable  globe, 
where  the  foot  of  civilization  ever  trod,  of  which  mankind 
in  general  have  such  an  erroneous  idea  as  of  the  province 
of  Nova  Scotia,  or  New  Scotland.  Within  a  very  few 
years,  indeed,  it  has  been  a  more  fashionable  trip  than 
formerly.  The  few  strangers  who  go  there,  however, 
usually  go  by  water  to  Halifax,  and  back  again,  during 
the  period  of  midsummer,  and  generally  know  as  much 
about  the  country  after  their  return  as  before  they  started. 

With  the  exception  of  its  inhabitants,  or  rather  the 
more  cultivated  and  intellectual  part  of  them,  who  have 
taste  to  admire  the  beauties  of  natural  scenery,  patience 
to  investigate,  and  judgment  to  appreciate  its  internal 
riches  and  immense  resources,  and  a  few  casual  visiters 
from  the  mother  country,  and  the  knowledge  possessed  by 
the  banished  Acadian,  Nova  Scotia  has  as  yet  been  ari 
unknown  land,  a  place  which  the  ignorant  of  every  coun 
try  seem  to  consider  as  the  extremity  of  the  north  pole; 
and  hence  the  saying,  "  cold  as  Nova  Scotia,"  "  barren 
as  Nova  Scotia ; "  and  when  some  poor,  houseless  vaga 
bond  is  seen  to  pass,  that  "  he  looks  as  though  he  were 
bound  to  Nova  Scotia;"  or  of  some  hardened  villain, 
who  is  a  nuisance  to  the  community,  that  '<  he  ought  to 
be  banished  to  Nova  Scotia." 

Even  in  this  enlightened  age,  when  the  facilities  of 
travelling  and  voyaging  have  brought  us  nearer  and  made 
us  familiar  with  almost  every  people  under  heaven,  the 
ignorant  prejudice  respecting  this  province  still  remains  ; 
and  the  bare  mention  of  it,  in  most  companies,  will  set 
their  teeth  to  chattering. 

Whether  the  first  word,  Nova,  (new,)  being  translated 
north,  as  we  are  confident  it  very  generally  is,  is  the 
cause  of  the  chilling  associations  connected  with  it,  we 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

are  unable  to  say.  Perhaps  the  stern  despotism  which 
has  always  been  exercised  there,  since  the  English  sat 
foot  upon  the  soil,  has  had  some  share  in  producing  them. 

The  memory  of  the  thousands  of  our  brave  countrymen 
who  have  perished  in  the  dungeons  and  prison-ships  at 
Halifax,  the  capital  of  Nova  Scotia,  during  the  war  of 
the  Revolution,  is  yet  rife  in  the  mind  of  every  American ; 
and  there  is  nothing  in  prison  discipline  remembered  with 
so  much  abhorrence,  unless  it  is  the  accaldama  of  Dart 
moor,  or  the  black-hole  of  Calcutta. 

The  enactment  of  the  cruelties  practised  in  Nova  Sco 
tia,  however,  towards  the  French  or  our  own  helpless 
citizens,  who  have  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  dragged 
into  bondage,  has  not  made  the  place  bleak  or  sterile. 
The  grandest  scenes  in  nature  have  sometimes  been  the 
theatre  of  the  most  horrible  tragedies;  and  though,  by 
association,  they  may  in  a  measure  lose  their  charms,  yet 
the  face  of  the  country  is  not  changed  :  and  this  province 
is,  for  the  most  part,  eminently  beautiful  in  its  scenery. 

But,  though  there  is  much  to  exasperate  the  feelings  of 
an  American  in  the  history  of  Nova  Scotia,  since  the 
period  of  1775,  and  of  the  French  prior  to  that  time,  yet 
there  is  that  of  its  history  in  relation  to  the  Acadians,. 
that,  if  it  could  all  be  told,  would  strike  the  whole  world 
with  horror.  The  sufferings  of  imprisoned  Americans, 
cold,  starving,  and  expiring  from  disease  and  filth  and 
noxious  air,  would  be  almost  forgotten,  if  once  the  whole 
story  of  the  former  inhabitants,  the  rightful  owners  of  the 
soil,  the  much-injured  Acadians,  could  be  told. 

To  tell  that  story,  in  all  its  revolting  details,  is  not  in 
our  power ;  nor  is  it  in  the  power  of  any  person  now 
living.  The  actual  sufferers  have  long  since,  it  is  believ 
ed,  all  gone  to  the  shades.  The  people,  as  a  people,  are 
extinct ;  the  records  of  them,  in  what  was  their  country, 
industriously  destroyed  ;  and,  as  far  as  possible,  all  knowli 
edge  of  their  former  state  and  possessions  suppressed. 
We  speak  of  the  public  records  of  the  British  provinces. 
It  was  not  until  within  a  very  few  years  that  they  have 
found  a  place  in  history. 

About  ten  years  since,  Judge  Halliburton,  of  Nova 
Scotia,  son  of  Doctor  Halliburton,  formerly  of  Newport, 
Rhode  Island,  published  a  history  of  Nova  Scotia,  in 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

which  he  has  made  mention  of  them,  and  given  something 
of  their  political  history,  with  more  truth,  candor,  and 
independence,  than  could  have  been  expected  from  such 
a  loyal  subject  of  the  crown  of  Great  Britain.  Much 
credit  indeed  is  due  him  for  thus  dragging  forth  from  the 
lumber  of  ages,  the  interesting  particulars  he  has  given, 
as  well  as  for  the  manner  of  relating  it.  The  manner  in 
which  he  became  possessed  of  most  of  the  facts,  proves 
most  incontestably,  that  it  was  the  design  of  the  British 
Colonial  Government  at  least,  that  all  memory  of  this 
nefarious  and  dark  transaction  should  be  forgotten.  Hence 
he  himself  avers  he  could  find  no  existing  records  of  them 
in  the  whole  country.  That  scattered  remnants  of  them 
still  exist  in  different  parts  of  the  province,  where  they 
have  sometimes  wandered  back  from  the  States,  or  emerg 
ed  from  the  deep  recesses  of  the  forests,  where  they  had 
been  concealed  for  a  term  of  years,  he  affirms  ;  and  indeed 
mentions  one  of  the  original  stock,  an  aged  female,  whom 
he  had  seen,  and  who  being  of  an  age  to  remember  the 
transactions  attending  their  expulsion,  and  the  almost 
superhuman  sufferings  of  those  who  remained,  thus  con 
cealing  themselves,  of  whom  she  was  one,  gave  him  a 
most  affecting  oral  account. 

But  the  principal  means  of  information  was  the  manu 
script  now  in  possession  of  the  "  Massachusetts  Histori 
cal  Society,"  where,  as  we  before  mentioned,  we  drew 
much  of  our  own. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  Halliburton  is  far  from 
attempting  any  thing  like  a  justification  of  the  govern 
ment  for  their  persecution  of  this  unoffending  people, 
though  he  appears  to  seek  most  industriously  for  some 
palliating  circumstances,  and  takes  care,  in  his  censures 
of  the  government,  to  always  specify  "  the  colonial  gov 
ernment."  But  we  will  not  anticipate  him.  All  that  is 
important  to  our  story  will  be  found  in  its  proper  place. 

Nor  is  it  in  our  place  to  give,  in  detail,  a  history 
of  the  conquest  of  the  country,  or  a  minute  description 
of  its  features.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  Nova  Scotia 
was,  for  the  most  part,  a  beautiful  though  sterile  tract, 
until  the  superior  training  of  the  French  had  brought 
the  low  lands  into  a  state  of  cultivation,  with  a  number  of 
excellent  harbors,  exceedingly  well  watered  with  lakes 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

and  rivers;  not  mountainous,  the  highest  hills  in  no  part 
exceeding  six  hundred  feet,  with  beautiful  intervals  on 
the  rivers,  and  diked  lands  on  the  coast ;  that  the  climate 
is  much  like  that  of  New  England,  the  winters  a  little 
longer  perhaps,  and  in  the  interior  rather  more  severe  ; 
that  the  heat  of  summer  is  allayed  by  refreshing  sea- 
breezes,  and  that  most  of  the  fruits  of  the  temperate  zone 
attain  the  same  perfection  as  in  Connecticut  and  Rhode 
Island,  and  also  the  other  products  of  the  soil ;  that  the 
country  now  abounds  with  fine  gardens,  orchards,  and 
productive  fields,  and  the  rivers  yield  plenty  of  excellent 
fish.  There  are  also  many  very  valuable  mines.  The 
coal  mines,  particularly,  appear  inexhaustible,  and  are  an 
immense  source  of  revenue.  And  most  of  the  comforts 
of  life,  we  believe,  may  be  enjoyed  there  in  as  great  a 
degree  as  in  most  other  portions  of  the  globe.  We  speak 
of  the  country,  without  any  reference  to  the  government, 
of  course.  The  climate  is  proverbially  healthy,  except 
for  consumptive  persons,  many  of  the  diseases  fatal  in 
warm  latitudes  being  unknown  here. 

It  will  be  recollected  by  those  acquainted  with  the  early 
history  of  the  continent  of  North  America,  that  the  pro 
vince  of  Nova  Scotia  was  originally  settled  by  the  French, 
William  Lincoln,  Esq.  observes,  that  "  the  settlements  of 
the  nations  here,  French  and  English,  were  almost  simul 
taneous."  It  does  appear,  however,  that  the  French  had 
the  precedence,  and  were  in  reality  the  first  that  had  the 
honor  of  planting  a  colony  in  North  America. 

Halliburton  treats  the  account  of  a  French  settlement 
being  formed  by  the  Baron  de  Lery  in  1518,  as  question 
able  ;  but,  by  reference  to  Goodrich,  the  author  of  Amer 
ican  Geography, — and  the  greatest  author  of  his  class 
now  perhaps  existing, — the  reader  will  perceive  the  fact 
established  of  a  "  French  settlement  on  the  St.  Lawrence 
as  early  as  the  year  1524  by  James  Cartin,  and  that  set 
tlements  were  soon  after  formed  in  Canada  and  Nova 
Scotia."  And  although  Queen  Elizabeth  granted  in 
1579  a  patent  "  for  discovering  and  occupying  such  re 
mote  heathen  countries  as  were  not  actually  possessed  by 
any  Christian  people,"  we  cannot  perceive  how  such 
grant  could  trench  upon  the  possessions  of  the  French 
in  America.  Nevertheless,  it  was  upon  the  ground  of  this 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

patent  to  Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert,  and  landing  at  the  harbor 
of  St.  Johns  fifty-nine  years  after  the  country  had  been  act 
ually  settled  by  the  French,  that  the  English  principally  ' 
grounded  their  absurd  claim  to  the  continent  of  North 
America !  though  they  couple  with  it  the  discovery  of 
Cabot  in  1497,  and  the  residence  of  Sir  John  Gilbert  on 
the  coast  of  Maine  in  1607,  who  claimed  the  country  in 
behalf  of,  or  as  heir  to  Sir  Humphry  Gilbert. 

In  addition  to  the  claims  of  the  French,  it  appears 
they  were  trading  and  fishing  at  Newfoundland  many 
years  previous  to  their  settlements  in  America,  and  al 
though  there  is  no  authentic  account  of  any  settlements 
on  the  coast,  yet  the  presumption  is  very  strong. 

As  early  as  the  year  1603,  we  find  a  settlement  com 
menced  by  the  French  in  Nova  Scotia,  admitted  by  the 
English,  they  having  discovered  it  in  some  of  their  fishing 
expeditions  to  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland.  The  French 
the  name  of  "  Acadia"  to  all  the  land  lying  east  of  the 
Penobscot ;  consequently  Nova  Scotia,  New  Brunswick, 
and  a  part  of  the  now  State  of  Maine,  constituted  the 
country  called  Acadia.  M.  Demonts  was  appointed 
Governor-General  by  Henry  IV.  It  was  not  until  five 
years  after  that  the  English  commenced  their  settlement 
in  Virginia,  which  was  the  first  place,  it  will  be  remem 
bered,  where  they  attempted  a  colony.  And  now  began 
the  disputes  between  the  Powers,  as  to  who  had  the  prior 
claim  to  this  continent ;  a  contention  that  has  repeatedly 
deluged  the  country  in  blood,  almost  before  it  was  re 
claimed  from  the  wilderness.  France  resisting  the  en 
croachments  of  the  English,  believing  she  had  the  best 
right  to  the  country  ;  and  England  protesting  her  own 
claim  upon  the  ridiculous  assumption  that  they  had  the 
right  of  discovery,  and  that  one  John  Cabot,  or  his  sons, 
they  could  not  exactly  tell  which,  had  discovered  the 
continent  about  one  hundred  years  before.  This  Cabot 
was  a  Venitian,  in  the  employ  of  the  British  Government, 
who  received  a  commission  from  King  James  to  sail 
on  a  voyage  of  discovery,  and  who  professed  to  have  dis 
covered  land,  which  was  afterwards  supposed  to  be 
the  eastern  coast  of  America.  The  accounts  of  this 
discovery  were,  in  the  first  place,  very  vague  and  contra 
dictory.  The  English  sometimes  asserting  it  was  the 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

father,  and  sometimes  that  it  was  the  son ;  but,  at  all 
events,  they  were  positive  (more  than  a  hundred  years 
after)  that  it  was  one  or  the  other  of  them.  The  discov 
ery,  real  or  pretended,  was  made,  they  asserted,  in  1497. 
And  although,  if  their  assertion  \vere  undeniable,  it  was 
a  most  preposterous  claim,  and  of  no  sort  of  consequence, 
being  more  than  one  hundred  years  before  its  occupancy 
by  them ;  yet,  ridiculous  as  it  was,  it  was  the  only  thing 
they  could  think  of  upon  which  to  found  a  plea  of  justifi 
cation  for  a  series  of  aggressions  disgraceful  to  any  civil 
ized  nation. 

The  commission  to  this  John  Cabot  and  his  three  sons 
is  still  to  be  seen  in  the  British  archives,  and  being  so 
infinitely  diverting  in  itself,  and  withal  edifying  to  us  of 
plain  republican  capacities,  we  cannot  forbear  transcrib 
ing  the  heads  of  it. 

His  Majesty's  commission,  then,  gave  to  this  "  John 
Cabot  and  his  three  sons,  permission  to  sail  to  all  coun 
tries  east,  west,  and  north,  under  British  colors,  with  five 
ships  of  any  burden  he  might  choose,  on  their  own  (the 
Cabots')  proper  cost  and  charges,  to  seek  and  discover 
all  the  islands,  regions,  and  provinces  of  heathens  un 
known  to  Christians.  His  Majesty  reserving  to  himself 
the  dominion  of  all,  and  requiring  one-fifth  of  the  gains 
after  the  expenses  of  the  voyage  should  be  deducted." 

This  was  royal  patronage  with  a  vengeance.  The 
question  naturally  arises,  gains  of  what  ?  Why,  of  the 
plunder  of  those  heathen  nations,  if  they  found  any,  to 
be  sure. 

It  appears  that  the  two  Powers  continued  to  increase 
their  settlements  in  a  prosperous  manner ;  and  one  would 
have  supposed  that  the  distance  from  Virginia  to  Nova 
Scotia  was  quite  sufficient  to  have  kept  them  asunder. 
But  the  enterprise  of  the  French,  and  the  avarice  of  the 
English,  soon  annihilated  time  and  space.  The  English 
monarch,  too,  had  given  to  two  companies  the  grant  of 
land  in  America  from  the  thirty-fourth  to  the  forty-fifth 
degree  of  latitude,  and  this  grant  actually  trenched  upon 
prior  grants  made  by  the  King  of  France.  To  go  back. 

The  settlements  of  Acadia  continued  to  progress  for 
a  period  of  about  ten  years  after  the  coining  of  the 
English.  The  inhabitants  devoted  themselves  princi- 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

pally  to  agricultural  pursuits,  and  lived  in  the  most 
friendly  manner  with  each  other,  and  with  the  savage 
nations  by  whom  they  were  surrounded.  They  had 
employed  no  means  to  subjugate  them,  but  observed' 
the  strictest  integrity  in  their  dealings  with  them,  and 
strove  to  civilize  them  through  the  medium  of  the  gospel. 
In  their  attempts  to  christianize  the  savages,  they  were 
eminently  successful.  True,  they  were  Catholics;  they 
erected  the  standard  of  the  cross  wherever  they  planted 
their  footsteps,  and  they  attended  to  most  of  those  out 
ward  observances  so  obnoxious  to  Protestants ;  but  their 
zeal  for  the  salvation,  as  well  as  for  the  temporal  comfort 
of  their  savage  neighbors,  was  worthy  of  all  praise.  And 
who  shall  dare  to  say  their  labors  were  not  acceptable? 
Many  of  those  savage  warriors,  upon  the  first  proclama 
tion  of  the  gospel  there,  at  once  laid  down  the  weapons 
of  war,  confessed  their  sins  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  re 
ceived  baptism,  and  sought  absolution  and  forgiveness 
through  a  crucified  Saviour,  and  at  the  hands  of  the 
priest  whose  authorized  ambassador  they  humbly  conceiv 
ed  him  to  be. 

The  island  of  Mount  Desert,  where  one  of  those  happy 
settlements  of  the  Acadians  was  established,  was  destined 
to  be  the  first  object  of  British  rapacity. 

In  the  year  1613,  a  commander  of  a  British  ship,  whose 
name  was  Argal,  had  accompanied  a  fleet  of  eleven  sail 
upon  a  fishing  and  trading  voyage  to  the  coast,  having 
heard  of  these  French  settlements.  Although  the  two 
nations  were  then  at  peace,  he  immediately  resolved  to 
attack  them.  Proceeding  along  the  coast,  he  at  J'ength 
discovered  the  settlement  at  Mount  Desert.  Tradition 
says  it  was  a  beautiful  little  place,  and  that  the  air  of  quiet 
and  serenity,  and  feeling  of  security  that  reigned  within, 
might  have  disarmed  savages.  They  had  a  little  fort,  for 
in  those  days,  as  now,  there  were  pirates,  and  such  a 
defence  was  deemed  necessary.  In  the  harbor  quietly 
lay  a  ship  and  bark  at  anchor,  unsuspicious  of  danger. 
Into  these  the  English  commander  fired,  the  first  saluta 
tion,  and  then  seized  all  alive  on  board  as  prisoners  ;  de 
stroyed  their  fort,  and  shot  the  priest,  who,  finding  them 
attacked  in  this  unheard-of  and  remorseless  manner,  en 
deavored  to  arouse  the  inhabitants  to  defend  themselves. 
2* 


tS  INTRODUCTION. 

They  shot  him  immediately,  and  the  affrighted  inhabitants 
finding  them  landing,  fled  to  the  woods.  The  island  was 
then  taken  possession  of  by  the  British  in  the  name  of  the 
King  of  England,  and  the  cross  broken  to  pieces. 

The  chief  man  or  governor  of  this  place,  Saussaye  by 
name,  fled  with  the  rest,  and  with  such  precipitation  that 
he  left  his  papers  behind,  and  among  the  rest  the  King  of 
France's  commission  for  the  occupancy  of  the  territory. 
He  returned  the  next  day  and  surrendered  himself,  with 
a  view  of  exhibiting  the  authority  by  which  he  acted  ; 
but  the  piratical  captain  had  stolen  it,  and  while  the  gov 
ernor  was  in  the  greatest  consternation  at  the  loss,  Argal 
told  him  "  that,  finding  he  had  no  authority  for  what  he 
did,  he  should  treat  them  as  pirates,  and  immediately 
ordered  the  place  to  be  pillaged ;  and,  putting  the  gover 
nor  and  some  of  the  principal  men  in  a  small  vessel,  he 
sent  them  to  France.  He  then  took  the  remainder,  being 
now  entirely  destitute  of  provisions  and  support,  to  Vir 
ginia  with  him. 

"  Arrived  at  Virginia,  Argal  delivered  up  these  per 
sons  as  corsairs  or  pirates,  although,  when  he  brought 
them  away,  to  induce  them  quietly  to  surrender  them 
selves,  he  had  promised  them  the  best  of  treatment  as 
prisoners  of  war."  These  unhappy  people  were  imme 
diately  thrown  into  prison  at  Jamestown,  and  condemned 
to  be  hung  as  pirates. 

This  was  going  rather  farther  than  the  English  captain 
intended,  which  was  nothing  more  than  a  pretext  for 
plundering  them  ;  and  finding  they  were  actually  about 
to  be  executed,  he  was  for  the  first  time  shocked.  The 
horrors  of  conscience  alarmed  him,  and  he  applied  to  the 
Governor  (Sir  Thomas  Dale  was  then  Governor  of  Vir 
ginia)  for  a  pardon.  It  was  in  vain;  the  sturdy  old  knight 
protested  they  should  die.  And  it  was  then  that  he  felt 
himself  driven  to  the  humiliation  of  confessing  that  these 
people  were  no  pirates,  but  peaceable  citizens,  acting 
under  a  commission  from  their  king,  and  produced  the 
commission.  Of  course,  they  were  then  reprieved.  But 
what  became  of  them,  history  does  not  say;  whether  they 
remained  in  Virginia,  whether  they  went  to  France,  or 
contrived  some  way  to  get  back  to  Acadia.  But  the 
wretch  Argal,  it  appears,  was  immediately  after  engaged 
in  another  plundering  expedition. 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

History  informs  us  that  the  account  of  these  settlements 
aroused  the  cupidity  of  the  English  Governor,  and  "  he 
immediately  fitted  out  three  armed  vessels,  appointing 
Argal  to  the  command  of  them,  to  pillage  the  remaining, 
settlements,  and  dislodge  the  French  from  Acadia."  The 
only  excuse  for  this  abominable  atrocity,  in  thus  invading 
the  possessions  of  a  Power  with  whom  they  were  then  at 
peace,  was  the  absurd  pretence  of  the  prior  right  of  the 
English,  from  the  supposition  of  the  discovery  of  the 
eastern  coast  by  this  John  Cabot,  some  hundred  years 
before. 

The  finest  settlement  of  the  French,  or  Acadians,  as 
they  called  themselves,  was  at  a  town  they  named  Port 
Royal,  and  since  called  Annapolis  by  the  English,  one  of 
the  most  delightful  situations  in  the  whole  province  of 
Nova  Scotia.  The  French  Governor  of  this  place  ap 
pears  to  have  been  a  spirited  person,  a  Roman  Catholic, 
and  a  just  man,  but  he  had  a  most  implacable  dislike  to 
the  Jesuits ;  and  such  was  his  opinion  of  their  treachery, 
duplicity,  and  depravity,  that  he  besought  the  French 
King  not  to  send  any  of  that  order  into  the  settlement  he 
had  the  honor  to  command. 

Whether  the  monarch  took  the  request  in  umbrage,  or 
whether  the  reluctance  of  the  Governor  to  admit  them, 
as  some  accounts  seem  to  intimate,  only  increased  their 
desire  to  itinerate  in  the  new  world,  or  whether  Louis  the 
Fourteenth  desired  to  get  some  of  them  out  the  way,  can 
not  now  be  known  ;  but  certain  it  was,  that  he  yielded  to 
the  request  of  some  of  the  holy  brotherhood,  and  sent 
them ;  and  the  Governor,  opposed  as  he  was  to  their  ad 
mission,  was  compelled,  in  obedience  to  the  command  of 
his  sovereign,  to  receive  and  tolerate  them.  And  now 
came  the  punishment.  The  base  Argal  was  unable  to 
find  his  way  into  the  harbor  of  Port  Royal,  the  navigation 
of  which  was  somewhat  difficult,  when  the  treacherous 
and  revengeful  priest  then  in  the  town  contrived  to  get 
to  the  squadron,  and  offered  himself  as  a  pilot,  and  did 
actually  pilot  them  into  the  port. 

The  inhabitants  of  this  beautiful  settlement  were  una 
ble  successfully  to  defend  themselves  ;  and  the  conse 
quence  was,  that  the  English  landed  and  pillaged,  and 
then  destroyed  the  place.  Part  of  the  inhabitants  fled  to 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

the  woods  and  hid  themselves  with  the  savages ;  a  part 
escaped  up  the  river  St.  Lawrence  to  the  Canada  settle 
ments  ;  and  a  part  were  seized  and  carried  prisoners  to 
England,  from  whence  they  were  afterwards  reclaimed  by 
the  French  ambassador. 

It  was  at  this  time,  while  Port  Royal  lay  in  ruins,  and 
eight  years  after  its  destruction  by  those  who,  according 
to  the  laws  of  nations,  had  no  right  to  molest  it,  (see 
Halliburton,  vol.  i.  p.  39,)  that  one  William  Alexander,  a 
sort  of  poet,  and  travelling  companion  of  the  Duke  of 
Argyle,  and  afterwards  gentleman  usher  to  Prince  Charles, 
and  knighted  by  him,  sought  and  procured  a  grant  from 
James  the  First,  of  all  that  country  lying  east  of  the 
river  St.  Croix  to  the  Gulf  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  which 
was  then  named  Nova  Scotia  ;  and  this,  the  English  his 
torian  says,  was  the  commencement  of  the  troublesome 
discussions  about  the  actual  boundaries  of  that  country. 
In  1623,  a  number  of  Scotch  emigrants  arrived,  who, 
rinding  the  country  again  repopulated  by  the  French,  went 
back  to  England.  This  patent  was  afterwards  renewed 
by  Charles  the  First ;  and,  in  1628,  by  the  help  of  one 
David  Kintck,  a  French  colonist,  he  again  sat  out  to 
claim  the  country,  and  succeeded  in  taking  it,  as  we  shall 
hereafter  mention.* 

By  what  right,  however,  Nova  Scotia  was  thus  claimed, 
we  cannot  see;  for  it  appears  that  the  first  William  Alex 
ander,  getting  discouraged  about  establishing  a  peaceable 
settlement  there,  conveyed  (with  the  exception  of  Port 


*  We  pause  to  speak  of  this  Alexander  family.  The  General 
Stirling  in  the  war  of  independence  was  the  rightful  heir  to  this 
William  Alexander,  which  was  his  own  name.  Just  before  the 
American  war  he  went  home  to  England  to  claim  his  title,  as  also 
the  grant  of  Nova  Scotia,  but  was  unsuccessful.  The  Americans, 
who  thought  his  claim  good  to  the  title  at  least,  always  called  him 
"  Lord  Stirling."  He  was  a  brave  and  patriotic  man,  and  was  the 
person  who  revealed  to  Washington  the  intrigue  of  General  Con- 
way  in  1777.  He  was  taken  prisoner  at  Long  Island,  at  that 
remarkable  battle,  but  afterwards  exchanged,  and  served  with 
honor  through  the  whole  war.  He  died  at  Albany  January  15, 
1783,  aged  fifty-seven  years.  The  title  of  the  Earl  of  Stirling 
was  considered  extinct  for  many  years;  but  recently  a  new  claim 
ant  has  appeared.  Should  the  old  claim  upon  Nova  Scotia  be 
allowed,  we  may  see  one  more  revolution  in  that  region. —  ED. 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

« 

Royal)  the  whole  of  his  claim  to  Claude  de  la  Tour,  a 
treacherous  Frenchman,  who,  having  married  a  maid  of 
honor  to  the  English  Queen,  turned  against  his  country, 
and  actually  beseiged  a  fort  held  by  his  son  at  Cape  Sable, 
which  was  nobly  defended  ;  and  the  son  only  permitted 
his  father  an  asylum  in  the  country  after,  upon  the  condi 
tion  that  he  and  his  wife  should  not  enter  it. 

The  trouble  given  by  this  La  Tour  was  immense,  and 
furnishes  a  romance  in  itself,  but  our  limits  -will  not  per 
mit  us  to  give  it  here.  We  will  only  observe,  that  his 
claims  were  favored  by  the  English  as  far  as  they  dared 
to,  according  to  their  ancient  policy  of  dividing,  where 
they  wished  to  destroy  ;  and  there  is  now  a  letter  to  be 
seen  in  the  archives  of  Massachusetts,  written  by  the 
French  Governor  of  Acadia  in  1614,  to  the  Governor 
and  Council  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  on  the  subject  of  the 
rebellion  of  La  Tour,  entreating  the  English,  for  their 
mutual  good,  to  suppress  it ;  that,  in  the  author's  opinion, 
is  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  diplomatic  correspon 
dence  she  has  ever  seen.  It  appears  a  ship,  belonging  to 
a  merchant  of  Boston,  Mr.  Saltonstall,  (son  of  Sir  Rich 
ard  Saltonstall,)  had  been  wrecked  on  that  coast,  and  the 
captain  returned  with  a  lamentable  story  of  having  been 
plundered  there,  &c.  D'Aulney,  the  French  Governor, 
replies  to  their  complaints,  stating  that  the  captain  must 
have  told  a  falsehood,  as  they  paid  him  one  thousand 
pounds  for  the  cargo  which  was  saved,  and  that  "  the 
commander  of  Razzilly  bought  of  him  all  that  could  be 
saved  of  the  wreck  of  the  vessel  for  seven  or  eight  hun 
dred  pounds,  which  he  paid  in  solid  gold  buttons,  taken 
off  a  suit  of  his  clothes  for  the  purpose. ';  He  then  rea 
sons  with  the  English  Governor  on  the  folly  and  injustice 
of  their  continual  persecutions,  professing  a  desire  for 
peace  upon  the  Christian  principle  of  doing  unto  others, 
&c.  The  concluding  paragraph  of  his  letter  is  one  of 
the  finest  specimens  of  Christian  eloquence  we  have  ever 
perused. 

Immediately  after  the  English  had  quitted  Port  Royal, 
the  hapless  inhabitants,  who  had  hid  in  the  neighborhood, 
returned  to  their  possessions  and  essayed  to  rebuild  their 
places  ;  and  various  hindrances  operating  to  prevent  the 
English  from  molesting  them  again,  they  continued  to 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

occupy  it  in  peace  for*  a  period  of  fourteen  years,  at  the 
expiration  of  which  term  war  was  declared  between  France 
and  England,  and  another  expedition  fitted  out  against 
them.  The  horrors  of  the  former  period,  of  course,  were 
acted  over  again  in  this  and  other  places,  and  towns  and 
cities  were  sacked ;  and  there  was  fighting  by  sea  and 
fighting  by  land,  with  various  success,  the  history  of  which 
our  limits  will  not  permit  us  to  give.  Fleets  were  sent 
from  France  to  succor  them,  but  all  would  not  answer ; 
the  settlements  fell  again  into  the  hands  of  their  foes. 
Acadia,  and  this  time  the  Canadas  also,  were  captured  ; 
they  were  all  a  conquered  people.  However,  by  the  treaty 
of  St.  Germaine  it  was  restored,  and  the  whole  returned 
to  the  French  crown.  This  was  in  1632,  the  date  of  the 
treaty. 

From  this  date  to  1654,  a  period  of  twenty-two  years, 
the  inhabitants  had  a  breathing  spell,  when  they  were 
again  attacked  and  conquered  by  a  force  sent  out  by  that 
hypocritical  despot,  Oliver  Cromwell,  and  for  the  third 
time  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  English,  who,  after  de 
stroying  their  forts,  pillaging  the  inhabitants,  and  enact 
ing  other  barbarities,  returned  to  England.  What  kind 
of  force  or  government  they  left  behind,  history  is  not 
very  explicit  about;  but,  as  they  continued  under  the 
British  yoke  for  thirteen  years,  doubtless  it  was  a  sufficient 
one.  The  poor  persecuted  inhabitants  maintained  their 
integrity  to  their  government  as  well  as  they  could  during 
this  period,  trusting  that  whenever  peace  should  be  settled 
between  the  rival  nations,  they  should  return  to  their  old 
master.  Nor  were  they  disappointed  ;  for  at  the  treaty  of 
Breda  in  1667,  Acadia  was  restored  to  France. 

Another  period  of  twenty-three  years  elapsed,  during 
which  the  Acadians  flourished.  They  built  towns  and 
villages,  planted  orchards,  raised  dikes,  (a  work  of  tre 
mendous  labor,)  continued  to  reclaim  land  from  the  ocean, 
laid  out  roads  and  erected  chapels;  and,  lastly,  fortified 
themselves  by  building  more  forts,  and  trying  "in  time 
of  peace  to  prepare  for  war."  In  all  this,  of  course,  they 
were  aided  by  the  parent  country,  France,  from  first  to 
last,  expending  a  vast  deal  of  money  in  that  region.  Of 
course,  from  time  to  time  they  received  accessions  of 
companies  from  that  country ;  but  it  had  been  so  often 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

the  seat  of  active  warfare  and  the  object  of  British 
cupidity,  it  was  rather  discouraging,  and  the  Canadas, 
too,  presented  a  more  inviting  aspect  on  the  score  of 
security. 

"  But  go  to,  ye  that  say  to-day  or  to-morrow  we  will  buy 
and  sell,  and  get  gain  ;  whereas  ye  know  not  what  a  day 
may  bring  forth." 

The  inhabitants  of  Port  Royal,  (their  principal  town,) 
notwithstanding  all  past  experience,  became  lulled  into  a 
false  security  ;  they  relaxed  their  vigilance  in  guarding 
the  coast,  suffered  their  forts  to  go  to  decay,  and  to  be 
almost  unmanned,  and  disabled  in  every  respect. 

Every  one  knows  the  force  of  evil  example.  The  col 
onies  of  the  English  in  North  America  had  looked  on  for 
many  years  and  seen  how  very  easy  it  had  been  to  over* 
come  this  people,  and  how  much  the  English  had  gained 
by  their  marauding  expeditions,  and — and — it  is  in  vain 
to  disguise  it  at  this  day,  there  is  no  doubt  the  example 
was  contagious.  They  had  learnt  that  every  outrage  per 
petrated  against  their  French  neighbors,  was  more  than 
tolerated,  generally  rewarded,  and  they  were  unwilling  to 
look  on  and  see  so  profitable  a  business  going  on,  and  not 
be  sharers  in  the  enterprise.  Hence,  there  was  a  con 
tinual  outcry  about  them  on  the  score  of  Indian  hostili 
ties,  and  every  outrage  perpetrated  in  the  English  settle 
ments,  of  which  there  were  not  a  fe>v,  and  such  as  would 
curdle  one's  blood  almost  to  describe,  was  unhesitatingly 
laid  to  the  French.  If  they  could  not  make  out  they 
were  direct  agents  in  the  atrocities,  they  asserted  it  was 
entirely  owing  to  their  proximity ;  and  the  wish  that  they 
might  be  exterminated  or  driven  out,  was  often  expressed 
even  in  public. 

Instead  of  examining  to  see  if  the  faithlessness  of  their 
own  agents  or  commissioners,  in  their  contracts  with  the 
Indian  tribes,  was  not  the  cause,  as  it  most  generally  was, 
they  unhesitatingly  accused  the  French,  on  all  occasions, 
of  being  the  instigators. 

In  the  frequent  outrages  of  the  Indians,  the  State  of 
Massachusetts  (then  comprehending  all  the  land  from 
Massachusetts  boundary  to  the  Penobscot  river)  was  un 
doubtedly  the  greatest  sufferer.  The  Indian  massacres 
at  Saco  and  at  Wells,  and  other  places  in  that  region, 


24  INTRODUCTION. 

were  horrible  indeed,  and  perfectly  convincing  that  they 
must  have  partaken  largely  of  the  nature  of  demons. 

There  is  no  reason  with  a  savage.  Has  he  a  friend  to 
avenge,  or  an  enemy  to  punish,  the  first  that  comes  in 
his  way  of  the  offending  nation  is  sure  to  fall  a  victim; 
and  whole  hecatombs  of  victims  do  not  suffice  to  glut 
their  rage.  But,  knowing  this,  being  aware  of  this  trait 
in  their  character  ;  and,  moreover,  that  nothing  excited 
them  more  than  cheating  them  by  failing  in  observing 
treaties,  can  any  excuse  be  offered  for  our  English  fore 
fathers,  in  thus  provoking  hostilities,  and  thus  exposing 
the  lives  of  innocent  women  and  children  to  the  deadly 
tomahawk  and  scalping-knife  1 

The  French  repudiated  the  assertion  at  the  time,  that 
they  incited  these  barbarians  to  murder  and  pillage  ;  and 
at  the  same  time  protested  their  utter  inability  to  restrain 
them  when  excited  by  real  or  supposed  injuries  ;  and,  in 
many  instances,  suggested  to  the  English  their  dangers, 
unless  they  would  honorably  fulfill  their  contracts  with 
the  tribes,  and  thus  prevent  all  provocations. 

In  later  years  it  was  ascertained  that  the  Governor  of 
Canada  engaged  the  Indians  to  assist  him  against  the 
English  ;  and  it  is  a  matter  of  history  that  papers  were 
found  on  some  of  the  savages  while  harassing  the  frontier, 
which  proved  they  acted  under  his  direction.  If  this  was 
the  case,  those  Indians  could  read  and  write,  and  conse 
quently  were  not  savages. 

We  are  no  advocates  for  savage  life  or  savage  warfare, 
but  think  there  must  have  been  something  crooked  in  the 
dealings  of  our  English  ancestors  at  that  time.  That 
the  Indians  could  be  conciliated  by  kind  treatment  and 
just  dealings  is  quite  apparent,  or  they  would  have  been 
likely  to  have  harassed  the  French. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  Canadas  (French)  asserted  they 
could  not  prevent  the  Indians  from  killing  their  prisoners 
by  any  other  means  than  offering  to  ransom  or  purchase 
them.  Many  families  and  individuals  were  saved  by  this 
means,  upon  paying  their  ransom.  But  for  this  they  were 
most  violently  accused  by  the  English,  who  either  thought 
or  said  that  this  practice,  by  whetting  the  avarice  of  the 
Indians,  only  made  them  worse,  and  added  another  stim 
ulus  to  their  barbarities.  The  idea  that  it  was  done  by 


INTRODUCTION.  25 

the  Canadian  French  from  motives  of  humanity,  seems 
not  to  have  been  at  all  admitted.  Whatever  accusation 
was  brought  against  one,  it  appears  in  their  mind  to  have 
applied  to  the  whole  French  race  on  the  continent. 

By  degrees,  these  aggressions  of  the  savages  had  work 
ed  up  the  inhabitants  of  New  England,  and  particularly 
those  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  into  a  determination  of  doing 
exactly  what  they  accused  the  French  of,  namely,  of 
attacking  the  most  defenceless  of  them.  Accordingly,  a 
force  of  three  ships  of  war  and  transports,  carrying  seven 
hundred  men,  were  fitted  out  in  Massachusetts,  and  sailed 
out  of  the  harbor  of  Boston,  under  the  command  of  the 
Governor,  Sir  William  Phipps,  who  went  himself  in  person. 

Before  relating  his  gallant  exploits,  it  may  be  interest 
ing  to  give  some  little  sketch  of  the  man  entrusted  with 
such  high  authority.  Bonaparte  said,  "  that  men  were 
made  before  kings."  Our  readers  may  make  what  appli 
cation  they  please  of  this  sentence  to  the  story  in  hand. 
For  ourselves,  we  believe  villains  were  made  before  titles. 

Sir  William  Phipps  was  the  son  of  a  blacksmith,  and 
was  in  early  life  apprenticed  to  a  carpenter.  Not  finding 
his  occupation  exactly  to  his  taste,  he  left  it  and  went  to 
sea.  He  is  represented  as  a  man  of  coarse  manners  and 
ferocious  temper,  but  possessed  of  great  courage  and 
ingenuity.  He  soon  became  captain  of  a  ship,  and  some 
time  after  formed  the  design  of  attempting  to  raise  the 
wreck  of  a  Spanish  vessel,  which  contained  an  immense 
quantity  of  specie,  and  fifty  years  before  had  gone  down 
on  the  Bahama  banks.  Various  attempts  had  been  made 
by  the  British  to  possess  themselves  of  this  treasure,  but 
without  success,  until  Phipps  made  the  attempt.  He  had 
been  in  search  of  it  a  long  time,  and  given  it  over  as 
fruitless,  and  was  about  to  return,  when,  getting  becalmed, 
he  lay  at  anchor  one  fine  day,  indulging  his  sailors  in  the 
luxury  of  bathing.  One  of  them,  who  dove  to  the  bot 
tom,  came  up  with  a  handful  of  gold,  thereby  discovering 
the  place  of  the  lost  treasure. 

For  this  exploit,  which  supplied  the  British  coffers  with 
an  immense  amount  of  specie,  Phipps  was  rewarded  with 
a  title,  and  appointed  Governor  of  Massachusetts.  Em 
barking  from  Boston  with  the  force  before  named,  he 
sailed  for  the  eastward,  and  on  the  20th  of  May,  1690, 
3 


26  INTRODUCTION. 

suddenly  appeared  in  the  harbor  of  Port  Royal,  and  de- 
manded  of  the  astonished  and  terrified  inhabitants,  an 
"  unconditional  surrender."  We  observed  before,  that 
the  caution  of  the  gentle  Acadians  who  were  even  then  a 
peaceable  and  agricultural  people,  was  entirely  lulled 
asleep.  They  had  nothing  but  a  dilapidated  fort,  with 
eighty-six  men  to  man  it.  The  unwarlike  inhabitants,  it 
is  probable,  would  have  immediately  surrendered  had  they 
not  been  animated  and  encouraged  to  resistance  by  a 
Catholic  priest,  who,  unlike  the  treacherous  Jesuit  who 
betrayed  them  twenty-three  years  before,  boldly  hazarded 
his  life  in  their  defence. 

It  was  soon  evident  that  a  show  of  resistance  was  all 
they  could  make,  and,  with  consummate  wisdom,  the 
priest  began  to  listen  to  overtures  of  the  enemy ;  and 
finding  a  very  short  time  must  reveal  their  defenceless 
condition,  he  succeeded,  before  it  became  known,  in  ob 
taining  the  most  favorable  conditions,  and  in  the  articles  of 
capitulation  it  was  stipulated  and  agreed  to  solemnly, 
"  that  the  soldiers,  with  their  arms  and  baggage,  should 
be  transported  to  Quebec." 

2.  "  That  the  inhabitants  should  be  continued  in  peace 
able  possession  of  their  property,  and  the  honor  of  the 
women  protected." 

3.  "  That  they  should  be  permitted  the  free  exercise  of 
the  Roman   Catholic  religion,   and  the  property  of  the 
church  protected." 

On  board  of  one  of  the  ships  this  agreement  was  for 
mally  ratified,  Phipps  saying  "  that  his  word  as  a  general 
was  sufficient,  and  was  pledged  to  the  full  fulfillment." 
Upon  entering  the  fortress,  where  the  keys  were  delivered 
to  him,  Phipps  perceived  that  he  might  have  taken  it 
with  ease,  had  he  known  its  defenceless  situation,  without 
granting  any  terms,  and  all  his  violence  and  malice  were 
at  once  aroused.  He  immediately  disarmed  the  soldiers, 
imprisoning  them  in  the  church.  The  Governor  he  im 
prisoned  in  his  own  house.  The  Governor  was  called 
Manival,  and  him  the  piratical  Phipps  stripped  of  every 
thing,  robbing  him  even  of  his  clothes;  and,  horrible  to 
tell,  then  gave  up  the  place  to  the  general  pillage  of  his 
soldiers,  from  which  not  even  the  church  or  the  priests 
were  exempt. 


INTRODUCTION.  27 

After  stripping  the  place  of  every  thing  they  could 
carry  away,  they  destroyed  the  fort,  tearing  it  entirely  to 
pieces,  and  then  left  them,  carrying  the  Governor,  a  ser 
geant,  and  thirty-eight  privates,  prisoners  with  them ; 
also  the  two  priests,  and  compelling  the  wretched  inhabi 
tants  to  perjure  themselves,  by  forcing  them  to  take  the 
oath  of  allegiance  to  the  British  sovereign. 

The  only  excuse  which  this  licensed  robber,  the  base 
Phipps,  pretended  to  offer  for  the  commission  of  these 
atrocities,  on  his  return,  was  the  pitiful  one.  "  that  he 
had  made  the  discovery  of  some  stores  in  the  houses  of 
some  of  the  inhabitants,  which  they  had  not  apprised 
him  of." 

From  Port  Royal,  Sir  Williamm  Phipps  proceeded  to 
another  settlement,  and  approaching  the  harbor  of  Ched- 
ebucto,  to  his  surprise  he  met  with  a  warm  reception. 
The  fort  here  was  commanded  by  a  spirited  French  offi 
cer,  by  the  name  of  "  Montorgieul,"  who  made  such  a 
brave  defence  against  the  furious  assaults  of  the  invaders, 
that  they  were  compelled  to  set  fire  to  the  town  before  he 
would  listen  to  any  terms  of  capitulation ;  and  then  they 
found  themselves  compelled  to  treat  them  rather  differ 
ently  from  those  at  Port  Royal,  not  having  priests  and 
women  to  deal  with  here. 

From  Chedebucto  Phipps  proceeded  to  another  settle 
ment  at  Isle  Perce,  where  there  was  no  defence  whatever, 
where  they  were  living  in  a  state  of  perfect  confidence 
and  tranquillity,  and  had  nothing  but  their  tears  to  oppose 
to  the  ruthless  freebooter,  who  now  presented  himself. 
It  seems  incredible,  that  these  innocent  people  could  have 
been  given  up  to  pillage.  Yet  such  was  the  case.  They 
were  plundered  of  all  that  could  be  carried  away,  and 
destroyed  more,  and  among  the  rest  the  chapel,  the  con 
secrated  sanctuary  where  they  were  accustomed  to  wor 
ship  the  God  of  their  fathers  in  the  only  form  they  had 
ever  known. 

Deep  and  profound  was  the  misery  of  the  wretched 
Acadians ;  but,  deep  and  bitter  as  was  their  anguish,  it 
seems  they  had  but  tasted  the  cup  of  misery,  and  they 
were  soon  obliged  to  drain  it  to  the  dregs.  And  now 
comes  the  most  mysterious  part  of  their  eventful  history, 
but  what  is  fully  authenticated*  history  ;  and  hoping  our 


28  INTRODUCTION. 

readers  may  understand  it  better  than  ourselves,  we 
give  it  as  it  is  related  in  history.  Halliburton,  in  his 
History  of  Nova  Scotia,  narrates  it,  with  much  seeming 
innocence  too. 

The  account  is  this.  That,  "  in  this  defenceless  state, 
the  unfortunate  Acadians  vvefe  visited  immediately  on  the 
departure  of  the  English  by  two  piratical  vessels,  the 
crews  of  which  set  fire  to  their  houses,  slaughtered  their 
cattle,  hanged  some  of  the  inhabitants,  and  deliberately 
burned  up  one  family,  whom  they  had  shut  up  in  their 
dwelling-house  to  prevent  their  escape." 

The  question  very  naturally  arises,  who  were  these 
pirates  ?  of  what  nation  1  what  language  ?  how  came 
they  in  that  neighborhood  just  at  that  particular  time? 
and  how  did  they  get  there,  and  elude  these  English 
ships,  while  all  their  tenders  and  transports  were  scour 
ing  those  seas  ? 

A  very  few  days  after  these  events,  the  Chevalier  Villa- 
bon  arrived  from  France  to  assume  the  command  of  Nova 
Scotia,  conveying,  we  may  well  suppose,  some  little  com 
fort  to  this  distressed  people.  He  entered  Port  Royal 
first,  immediately  hauling  down  the  English  flag  and  sub 
stituting  that  of  France.  The  distressed  inhabitants 
flocked  around  him,  narrating  the  history  of  their  suffer 
ings  ;  but,  bad  as  things  were,  they  informed  him  that, 
upon  the  approach  of  the  English,  they  had  immediately 
buried  a  large  sum  of  money,  by  which  means  it  had 
escaped  the  rapacity  of  their  conquerors. 

From  this  place,  Villabon,  according  to  the  orders  of 
his  government,  was  obliged  to  proceed  to  the  relief  of 
the  French  fort  at  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Join.,  (the  now 
city  of  St.  John,  undoubtedly.)  He  had  several  vessels 
with  him,  and  one  under  his  convoy  was  partly  laden 
with  presents,  from  his  most  Christian  Majesty  the  King 
of  the  French,  to  the  Indians,  and  likewise  containing 
stores,  &c.  for  the  fort.  What  these  presents  were  we 
can  only  conjecture  at  this  day.  But  it  appears  they 
were  gifts,  and  that  the  kindness  of  the  savages  uniformly 
to  the  French,  had  always  been  reciprocated  by  the  gov 
ernment. 

On  the  way  to  this  fort  they  were  interrupted  by  the 
mysterious  piratical  vesstls,  before  spoken  of,  who  sue- 


INTRODUCTION.  29 

ceeded  in  catching  the  store-ship  with  the  presents,  &,c., 
and  escaped  with  her.  The  grief  and  mortification  of 
Villabon  were  extreme,  particularly  on  account  of  the 
presents  Intended  for  the  savages,  who,  it  seems,  had  been, 
apprised  of  the  favors  intended  them.  In  this  emergency 
he  collected  the  Indians  and  narrated  the  disaster,  and 
with  much  feeling  deploring  it. 

History  does  not  relate  a  more  generous  circumstance 
in  the  character  of  these  Indians  than  this,  namely  : 
"  They,  so  far  from  appearing  displeased,  tried  to  comfort 
Villabon,  telling  him  that  they  lamented  the  loss  of  the 
vessel  and  stores  more  on  his  account  than  the  loss  of  the 
presents  to  themselves ;  that  the  King  had  already  been 
very  generous  to  them,"  and  voluntarily  proffered  their 
continued  faith  to  the  French  government. 

Before  narrating  the  exploits  of  Villabon,  the  avenger 
of  the  despoiled  Acadians,  after  the  whole  horrible  detail 
of  English  outrage  in  their  various  settlements  had  been 
made  known  to  him,  we  pause  to  say,  that  from  the  time 
of  these  piratical  exploits,  the  English  sat  up  a  regular 
claim  to  this  territory,  although  it  continued  entirely  peo 
pled  by  French,  and  had  been  retaken  within  a  few  days, 
and  would,  probably,  at  the  next  peace,  be  ceded  to 
France,  as  it  had  uniformly  been  at  every  proclamation 
of  peace.  Yet,  nevertheless,  at  this  very  time,  while  the 
flag  of  France  waved  from  every  fort  in  that  region,  a 
new  charter  of  Massachusetts  had  it  annexed,  making  an 
extensive  tract  of  eight  hundred  miles  in  length  tributary 
to  Phipps,  the  carpenter-blacksmith  baronet,  and  corsair- 
Governor  of  Massachusetts,  who  was  the  first  Governor 
under  the  new  charter. 

To  go  back  to  the  brave  and  chivalrous  Villabon.  The 
exasperated  Frenchman  was  determined  not  to  sit  down 
patient  under  the  injuries  and  insults  sustained  by  his 
countrymen  as  well  as  himself  in  the  recent  transactions. 
Having  been  sent  to  protect  these  settlements,  it  seems  he 
thought  he  could  not  more  effectually  do  it  than  by  carry 
ing  the  war  into  the  enemy's  camp.  Accordingly,  he 
proceeded  to  make  the  fort  at  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Johns 
a  rallying  place  for  French  and  Indians,  whom  lie  prepared 
and  trained  to  his  purposes.  Aware  of  these  preparations, 
the  English  sent  out  a  ship-of-wjff  to  intercept  the  annual 


30  INTRODUCTION. 

supply  they  were  in  the  habit  of  receiving  from  France. 
This  ship,  called  the  Sorrel,  was  fitted  out  from  Massa 
chusetts,  and  sailed  from  the  harbor  of  Boston,  with 
orders  to  cruise  off  the  harbor  of  St.  Johns,  and  await 
the  French  vessel.  The  frigate  that  brought  these  sup 
plies  appeared  in  due  time,  and  was  attacked  by  the 
British  ship.  A  very  severe  engagement  ensued,  in  which 
the  French,  however,  were  victorious,  beating  off  the 
Sorrel,  and,  entering  the  harbor  in  triumph,  landed  her 
stores. 

"  The  next  year  the  Sorrel,  being  repaired,  was  des 
patched  again  upon  the  same  service  with  the  Newport 
frigate  and  the  Province  tender ;  but  while  at  anchor  in 
the  harbor  of  St.  Johns,  Ibberville,  the  Governor  of  Que 
bec,  arrived  with  two  men-of-war,  having  on  board  two 
companies  of  soldiers  and  fifty  Mic  Mac  Indians,  to  effect, 
in  conjunction  with  Villubon,  the  reduction  of  the  English 
fort  at  Permaquid.  The  ships  were  immediately  engaged, 
when  the  Newport,  having  sustained  the  loss  of  her  top 
mast  and  other  injuries,  surrendered.  The  others,  under 
cover  of  a  fog,  escaped. 

<c  Reenforced  with  this  prize,  Villabon  and  Ibberville 
proceeded  immediately  to  Penobscot,  where  they  were 
joined  by  the  Baron  Castine  with  two  hundred  Indians, 
and  invested  Pernaquid  on  the  14th  of  July,  1696.  The 
defence  of  this  fort  was  inconsiderable ;  but  the  terror 
inspired  by  the  savages  was  such  that  the  garrison  capitu 
lated  after  a  feeble  resistance,  upon  assurances  of  protec 
tion  from  their  fury."  » 

Our  limits  will  not  permit  us  to  give  a  history  of  the 
various  retaliatory  measures  adopted  on  the  one  side  or 
the  other ;  and  AVC  should  not  have  narrated  this,  had  it 
not  been  for  one  anecdote  connected  with  it,  which  exhib 
its,  in  fine  contrast  the  conduct  of  French  officers,  with 
that  of  the  English  during  the  revolutionary  war. 

Upon  entering  this  fort  of  Permaquid,  (now  in  the 
State  of  Maine,)  their  Indian  followers  discovered  one 
of  their  tribe  a  prisoner,  and  in  irons ;  and  history  nar 
rates  that,  upon  his  giving  them  an  account  of  his  suffer 
ings,  which  had  been  very  severe,  they  were  so  exaspera 
ted  that  they  fell  upon  the  English  and  murdered  several 
before  the  French  ofli <£rs  could  prevent  them  ;  but  that 


INTRODUCTION.  31 

Ibberville  immediately  came  to  the  rescue,  and  had  the 
prisoners  removed  to  an  island  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
placed  under  a  strong  guard  of  French  soldiers,  to  pre 
vent  their  falling  victims  to  the  rage  and  revenge  of  his 
Indian  allies. 

Does  history  record  a  brighter  act  of  generosity,  mag 
nanimity,  and  humanity,  than  this  ?  The  recent  provo 
cations  of  the  French  had  been  almost  beyond  a  parallel, 
and  if  revenge  ever  was  lawful,  it  might  have  been  so 
in  this  case.  Besides,  they  had  no  character  to  lose ;  for 
there  had  not  been  an  Indian  murder  on  the  borders 
since  the  first  settlement  of  the  country,  that  they  had 
not  been  accused  as  the  instigators,  and  here  it  would 
have  been  a  very  plausible  excuse,  "  that  they  could  not 
restrain  the  savages  ;  "  the  same  excuse  made  afterwards 
by  Burgoyne  and  others  in  the  war  of  the  revolution. 
In  addition  to  this,  there  was  actually  no  small  danger 
in  the  attempt  to  do  so ;  for  no  greater  provocation  cau 
be  given  to  an  Indian  than  to  rob  him  of  his  revenge. 

There  was  a  fleet  immediately  sent  out  from  Boston, 
but  they  came  too  late  for  the  fort,  which  was  destroyed, 
and  the  enemy  had  retreated  before  their  arrival.  Iber- 
ville  went  immediately  to  Cape  Breton,  by  which  means 
he  was  separated  from  Villabon,  who  attempted  to  return 
to  St.  Johns,  but  was  captured  by  this  fleet  and  carried 
prisoner  to  Boston. 

We  will  not  attempt,  in  this  place,  to  give  the  history 
of  the  Baron  Castine,  a  man  who  may  certainly  be  con 
sidered  as  having  been  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  age  : 
a  man  of  noble  birth,  of  immense  fortune,  and  singular 
elegance  of  person,  preferring  the  wilds  of  -America  and 
the  society  of  savages  to  all  the  refinements  of  civilized 
life,  and  even  to  the  elegancies  of  a  court.  To  the  place 
of  his  residence  in  Maine  he  had  the  honor  of  giving  his 
name,  and  will  be  remembered  probably  as  long  as  "  Cas 
tine  "  remains  on  the  map  of  the  country. 

The  history,  or  at  least  some  little  account  of  him  and 
his  son,  by  his  Indian  wife,  will  be  found  in  another  part 
of  this  book,  and  the  reader  may  rely  upon  the  historical 
accuracy  of  the  narration ;  the  descriptive  parts  alone, 
resting  upon  a  few  vague  traditions. 

Immediately  after  the  destruWon  of  Pemaquid  fort  in 


32  INTRODUCTION. 

1696,  the  English  despatched  a  force  of  five  hundred 
men  from  Boston  to  "ravage,  Nova  Scotia"  under  com 
mand  of  the  famous  Captain  Church,  the  person  who  is 
celebrated  for  his  great  success  in  the  wars  with  the 
savages,  himself  a  greater  savage  than  any  that  he  slaugh 
tered. 

He  arrived  in  Bean  Rasin,  Nova  Scotia,  and,  intent 
upon  his  mission  as  the  minister  of  destruction,  ravaged 
all  that  country  now  called  Cumberland  district.  The 
terrified  inhabitants,  as  usual,  fled  to  the  woods  on  the 
first  approach  of  the  enemy.  By  manceuvering  and  de 
ception,  he  induced  many  of  them  to  return.  Many 
would  not,  preferring  the  protection  of  the  savages  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  the  English,  which  had  been  experi 
enced  too  many  times,  they  thought,  to  trust  them  now. 
Those  who  adhered  to  the  wise  resolution  of  remaining 
in  their  covert,  had  reasons  full  soon  to  rejoice  at  their 
foresight ;  for  no  sooner  had  the  number  who  had  been 
lured  back,  assembled,  than  they  were  ordered  to  "join 
the  force  of  Captain  Church  in  pursuit  of  the  sava 
ges." 

Judge  Halliburton,  who  relates  this  manoeuvre,  re 
marks,  "  that  it  was  an  ungenerous  request,  to  which  it 
was  impossible  for  them  to  accede,  though  the  restitution 
of  their  property,  which  had  been  already  taken,  was 
promised  them,  and  the  preservation  of  the  rest."  No 
inducement  ever  could,  or  ever  did  prevail  on  the  French 
to  injure  the  savages.  Nothing  could  surpass  the  integ 
rity  of  their  conduct  in  this  respect.  Every  kind  of  bribe 
from  time  to  time  was  held  out  to  them,  but  in  vain. 
They  peremptorily  refused  to  assist  on  this  occasion,  too, 
to  so  base  an  act  of  treachery  and  ingratitude  ;  and  on 
their  refusal,  their  houses  were  burned,  their  effects  plun 
dered,  their  cattle  and  sheep  destroyed,  and  their  dikes 
broken  down ;  and,  in  fine,  all  the  horrors  and  excesses 
of  former  times  acted  over  again.  And  upon  the  discov 
ery  of  an  "Order  for  the  regulation  of  trade,"  by  Fronti- 
nac,  the  Governor  of  Canada,  their  ire  exceeded  all 
bounds.  They  accused  them  of  being  rebels,  and  set  fire 
to  the  church,  destroying  that  and  every  thing  which  re 
mained  to  the  wretchecTAcadians. 

It  is  almost  hnpossi-Wwo  read  the  history  of  this  inno- 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

«ent  and  persecuted  people,  without  wondering  why  there 
was  not  some  "  hidden  thunder  "  to  crush  their  remorse 
less  foes?  We  believe  it  was  not  ever  pretended  that 
these  Acadians  were  the  persons  concerned  in  the  late 
attack  on  Pennaquid  ;  that  having  been  conducted  wholly 
by  the  French,  under  Villabon,  aided  by  a  force  from 
Canada  and  by  the  Indians.  Nevertheless,  as  they  were 
the  most  defenceless,  the  first  act  of  retaliation  was  to 
ravage  Nova  Scotia,  whose  chief  offence  seemed  to  be, 
that  they  would  not  imbrue  their  hands  in  the  blood  of 
the  savages. 

So  far  were  these  innocent  people  from  offending,  that 
they  could  not  seem  to  comprehend  the  cause,  if  any 
there  was,  why  they  should  be  subjected  .to  such  attack, 
and  produced  to  Church  a  proclamation  of  Sir  William 
Phipps,  promising  them  protection  while  they  remained 
peaceable.  But  Church  probably  thought  Phipps's  exam 
ple  of  more  import  than  his  words,  and  acted  as  he  did, 
not  as  he  said  ;  thus  leaving  an  industrious  and  unoffend 
ing  people,  with  all  their  little  ones,  on  the  verge  of  a  cold 
winter,  houseless,  homeless,  stripped  of  all  that  could 
render  life  comfortable. 

They  were  charged,  too,  with  being  rebels ,  although, 
within  less  than  a  century,  they  had  changed  masters 
fourteen  times,  and  alternately  been  compelled  to  swear 
allegiance  to  the  Powers  of  France  and  England  ;  not 
just  as  many  times,  indeed,  as  they  had  been  conquered 
and  reconquered,  for,  often  before  that  operation  could 
be  performed,  they  were  again  transferred  to  the  opposite 
Power.  In  the  present  instance,  they  were  ceded  to 
France  in  the  same  year,  by  the  peace  of  Ryswic. 

Captain  Church,  upon  leaving  Cumberland  district, 
had  to  proceed  to  the  fort  of  Villabon,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
St.  Johns.  Here  he  fared  very  differently.  The  fort 
was  defended  with  much  gallantry,  and  he  beat  off,  and 
returned  to  Boston,  without  effecting  one  principal  object 
of  the  expedition.  Thus  ended  the  war  of  six  years, 
from  1690  to  1696.  From  this  time,  Massachusetts  find 
ing  herself  unable,  as  she  said,  to  protect  Nova  Scotia, 
petitioned  to  the  crown  to  be  relieved  from  the  expense 
and  trouble,  which  act  was  considered  as  a  relinquish- 
ment  of  jurisdiction  over  it. 


34  INTRODUCTION. 

The  felicitations  of  the  Acadians,  upon  again  coming 
under  the  crown  of  France,  had  scarcely  ceased  ;  their 
wasted  lands  again  put    in    a   state  of  cultivation,  and 
habitations  once  more  rising  around  them,  and  their  dikes 
repaired,  &c.,  than  France  and  England  were  again  at 
war,  Louis  the  Fourteenth  having  acknowledged  the  Pre- 
Jtender  as  King  of  England.      War  was  declared  against 
>him  on   the  4th  of  May,    1701.      This  was  rather  the 
'shortest  breathing  spell  the  Neutral  French  enjoyed,  but 
little  more  than  four  years.     And  that  demon  in  human 
shape,  as  they  must  have  considered  him,  Captain  Church, 
was  again  let  loose  upon  them,  for  the  purpose  of  rava 
ging  and  plundering  the  settlements  of  Nova  Scotia. 

The  instructions  given  to  Captain  Church,  the  slayer 
of  King  Philip,  by  Phipps,  &c.,  is  one  of  the  greatest 
literary  curiosities  that  has  fallen  in  our  way.  After 
authorizing  him  to  take  the  command  of  the  force  destined 
for  Nova  Scotia,  &.C.,  the  order  requires  him  "  to  have 
prayers  on  board  ship  daily,  to  sanctify  the  Sabbath,  and 
to  forbid  all  profane  swearing  and  drunkenness."  The 
next  article  authorizes  him  to  burn,  plunder,  destroy,  and 
get  spoil  wherever  he  could  effect  a  landing.  The  hypo 
critical  cant  made  use  of  in  these  orders  is  enough  to 
make  one's  blood  curdle.  It  seems,  after  all,  that  the 
spoiler  did  not  get  his  reward ;  for  his  son,  who  has 
written  his  life,  affirms,  "that  for  all  his  great  expenses, 
fatigues,  and  hardships,  in  and  about  this  expedition,  he 
received  only  fifteen  pounds  as  an  earnest  penny  towards 
raising  volunteers;  and  after  he  came  to  receive  his  de 
benture  for  his  colonel's  pay,  there  were  two  shillings  and 
fourpence  due  him  :  and  as  for  his  captain's  pay  and  man 
Jack,  he  never  received  any  thing."  Verily,  cutting 
throats  in  those  days  must  have  been  a  cheap  business, 
His  historian  adds  :  "  After  he  came  home,  some  evil- 
minded  persons  did  their  endeavors  to  injure  him  for 
taking  away  life  unlawfully ; "  referring  to  his  having 
commanded  his  soldiers  who  were  surrounding  a  house 
full  of  people,  who  refused  to  come  out  at  their  bidding, 
(and  being  French  probably  did  not  understand  the  com 
mand,)  "  to  set  fire  to  the  four  corners  of  the  house,  and, 
as  they  came  out,  knock  them  all  in  the  head.3' 

During   the  eight   years'   cessation  of  hostilities,  the 


INTRODUCTION.  35 

inhabitants  of  these  fated  regions  suffered  themselves  to 
be  lulled  into  the  same  security  they  had  done  before. 
Yet  their  measures,  and  the  resolutions  they  came  to  this 
time,  were  somewhat  different.  With  incredible  industry 
and  perseverance,  they  had  again  built  up  their  beautiful 
villages,  restored  their  farms,  rebuilt  their  chief  towns  in 
an  improved  style,  and  again  the  herculean  labor  of  erect 
ing  dikes  or  encroachments  against  the  ocean  had  been 
resorted  to.  But  this  time,  warned  by  sad  experience, 
they  determined  to  erect  forts  in  every  exposed  place, 
and  make  it  a  primary  object  to  fortify  and  strengthen 
them  in  the  best  manner  they  were  able.  Port  Royal,  in 
an  especial  manner,  was  strengthened.  Alas!  too  soon, 
they  were  convinced  these  precautions  were  not  unneces 
sary. 

The  war  had  raged  with  various  success  between  the 
French  and  English  three  years,  before  the  actual  assaults 
upon  the  settlements  of  Nova  Scotia  commenced.  The 
pretext  set  up  for  thus  disturbing  the  peace  of  these  re 
gions  this  time,  was  that  Bruillon,  the  then  French  Gov 
ernor  of  all  that  country  called  New  France,  had  em 
ployed  pirates  in  his  navy,  and  savages  on  the  land,  in 
acts  of  hostility  towards  the  neighboring  English  colonies, 
that  is,  New  England,  which  then  contained  twelve  thou 
sand  inhabitants.  The  French  settlements,  it  will  be 
remembered,  then  extended  as  far  as  the  Penobscot  river, 
and  nothing  could  be  more  convenient  than  to  cross  over 
and  plunder  each  other.  The  settlement  of  the  Baron 
Castine  was  in  this  neighborhood,  too,  and  he,  from  his 
marriage,  having  been  constituted  chief  of  the  Abenakis 
nation,  was  usually  accused  of  being  the  principal  insti 
gator  of  all  the  savage  exploits  in  that  region.  But  the 
Baron  Castine  was  not  then  in  the  country,  but  on  a  visit 
to  France ;  and  it  seems  to  us  quite  as  inhuman  to  have 
visited  the  hapless  inhabitants  of  Nova  Scotia  for  the 
offences  of  a  Governor  set  over  them  without  their  choice, 
as  for  the  Governor  of  Canada  to  have  employed  the  sava 
ges  to  avenge  the  depredations  of  English  soldiers  upon 
the  peaceable  settlers  of  New  France,  who  had  no  part 
in  the  contest. 

It  is  not  our  province  to  go  into  an  argument  on  the 
subject  of  reprisals,  with  respect  to  the  English  histories 


36  INTRODUCTION. 

of  French  enormities  committed  at  that  time.  But  to 
return. 

Alleging  the  before-mentioned  incentives,  to  avenge 
upon  the  whole  French  population  the  acts  of  the  Gover 
nor  and  the  forces  under  his  command,  the  English  au 
thorities  in  Massachusetts  Bay  fitted  out  of  Boston,  in  the 
year  1704,  an  armament  consisting  of  three  men-of-war, 
fourteen  transports,  and  thirty-six  whale-boats,  with  a 
force  of  five  hundred  arid  fifty  soldiers,  under  the  com 
mand  of  Colonel  Church,  for  the  purpose  of  "  ravaging 
the  French  settlements  in  Nova  Scotia."  Halliburton  says  : 

"  Touching  at  Montinicus,  and  seizing  a  few  French 
men,  whom  he  compelled  to  serve  as  pilots,  they  first 
sailed  up  the  river  Penobscot,  where  they  took  a  number 
of  prisoners,  and  among  the  rest  the  daughter  of  the 
Baron  Castine,  who  was  then  on  a  visit  to  his  paternal 
estate  in  France."  Thus  avenging  the  loyalty  of  the 
Baron  to  the  French  government,  and  his  friendship  to 
the  Indians,  by  the  plunder  of  his  helpless  household 
during  his  absence,,  and  the  captivity  of  his  daughter. 
Of  this  young  lady,  the  daughter  of  an  Indian  mother, 
(but  in  lawful  wedlock,)  history  makes  no  further  mention 
in  this  place.  Some  years  subsequently,  however,  we  are 
told,  "  that  the  two  daughters  of  the  Baron  Castine  were 
married  to  respectable  French  gentlemen."  And  thus  it 
appears  this  unhappy  young  lady  survived  her  captivity 
and  all  the  horrible  scenes  she  was  compelled  to  witness 
ere  the  return  of  the  English  fleet  to  Boston.  Who  were 
the  companions  of  her  voyage  we  cannot  tell ;  but  it  is 
recorded  "  they  carried  from  this  neighborhood  a  number 
of  other  prisoners." 

"From  thence,"  Halliburton  continues,  "  the  boats 
proceeded  up  the  western  Passamaquoddy,  destroying  the 
whole  of  the  settlements  as  far  as  the  falls  of  the  river, 
and  perpetrating  several  acts  of  outrage  upon  the  unof 
fending  inhabitants,"  Here  the  fleet  separated,  the  men- 
of-war  sailing  for  Port  Royal,  and  the  whale-boats  for 
Minas,  now  called  Horton.  Here  they  succeeded,  after 
some  resistance,  in  totally  destroying  three  populous  vil 
lages,  plundering  the  inhabitants,  and  bringing  off  a  num 
ber  of  prisoners;  after  which  work  of  destruction,  they 
immediately  proceeded  to  the  harbor  of  Port  Royal  and 


INTRODUCTION.  37 

joined  the  ships.  The  attack  upon  Port  Royal  was  un 
successful,  and,  after  several  attempts,  was  given  up. 
The  inhabitants  seemed,  at  length,  to  discover  that  they 
could  fight  when  pressed  to  the  utmost.  After  abandon 
ing  this  place  in  despair,  Church  proceeded  to  Chieg- 
necto,  (which  he  had  visited  eight  years  before,)  and  laid 
waste  the  country,  plundering  the  inhabitants  of  their 
goods,  burning  their  houses,  and  breaking  down  their 
dikes,  which  protected  their  valuable  and  extensive  marsh 
es  from  the  encroachments  of  the  sea. 

The  ease  with  which  these  conquests.,  if  such  they 
could  be  called,  had  been  obtained,  seems  at  length  to 
have  excited  the  cupidity  of  the  authorities  in  Massachu 
setts,  to  become  the  permanent  possessors  of  this  beautiful 
country,  or  at  least  that  it  should  become  annexed  to  the 
English  province?.  They  therefore  procured  the  assent 
of  the  parent  government  to  raise  a  force  sufficient,  for 
the  conquest,  and  a  pledge  that,  if  conquered,  it  should 
never  again  be  ceded  to  France. 

"The  ways  of  Providence  are  dark  and  intricate" 
indeed.  Little  did  the  New  England  provinces  then 
think,  that  the  time  would  come  when  they  should  as 
fervently  wish  it  in  the  possession  of  the  French  as  they 
now  deprecated  it. 

In  1707,  one  thousand  men  were  raised  in  Massachu 
setts,  New  Hampshire,  and  Rhode  Island,  and  despatched 
to  Port  Royal,  where  they  arrived  on  the  17th  of  May, 
under  the  convoy  of  two  men-of-war.  The  Governor,  Bro- 
illard,  had  died  the  preceding  year,  and  the  command  had 
devolved  upon  M.  Subercease,  an  active  and  brave  French 
officer,  and  one  who  had  before  distinguished  himself  at 
Newfoundland.  His  judicious  arrangements  and  spirited 
defence  frustrated  all  their  attempts  upon  the  forts,  while, 
in  endeavoring  to  land  in  another  place,  they  were  met 
by  a  company  of  Indians  and  of  the  inhabitants,  com 
manded  by  one  whose  name  seems  always  to  have  carried 
terror  into  the  camp  of  the  English,  the  "  Baron  Cas- 
tine."  On  this  occasion  he  became  the  assailant,  and 
compelled  them  to  re-embark.  The  consequence  was 
their  immediate  return  to  Boston. 

Governor  Dudley,  who  was  then  Governor  of  Massa 
chusetts,  was  determined  the  enterprise  should  not  thus 
4 


38  INTRODUCTION. 

be  abandoned ;  and,  accordingly,  raising  an  additional 
force,  and  fitting  them  out  once  more,  he  compelled  them 
to  return  to  the  assault.  They  were  beat  off  again,  and 
with  such  effect  that  the  English  soldiers  lost  ail  presence 
of  mind  and  subordination,  and  retreated  in  much  disor 
der,  numbers  falling  into  an  ambuscade  laid  for  them. 
They  continued  some  time  on  the  coast,  making  several 
attempts  ;  but  Providence  had  decreed  that  they  should 
not  now  succeed,  and  for  this  time  interposed  an  Omnip 
otent  arm  between  them  and  the  hunted  and  persecuted 
Acadians.  A  violent  and  epidemic  disease  at  this  time 
broke  out  on  board  the  ships,  which  compelled  them  to 
return  before  they  should  be  unable  to  get  away. 

For  three  years  no  attempt  was  made  against  this 
country,  until,  in  1710,  another  expedition  was  fitted  out 
under  the  command  of  General  Nicholson  ;  and  on  the 
18th  of  September,  four  ships  of  war,  two  provincial 
galleys,  and  fourteen  transports,  in  the  pay  of  Massachu 
setts,  five  of  Connecticut,  two  of  New  Hampshire,  three 
of  Rhode  Island,  a  tender,  and  five  English  transports 
set  sail  from  Boston  bay,  and  after  a  passage  of  six  days 
displayed  their  imposing  force  in  the  harbor  of  Port 
Royal.  With  the  exception  of  one  regiment  of  marines 
from  Europe,  the  forces  were  all  provincials,  raised  in 
New  England,  but  commissioned  by  the  Queen,  and  arm 
ed  at  the  royal  expense  ;  four  provincial  and  one  English 
regiments. 

There  chanced  to  be  but  two  hundred  and  sixty  effec 
tive  men  in  the  forts  ;  and,  although  one  of  the  trans 
ports  was  sunk  in  attempting  to  enter  the  harbor,  and 
perished  with  all  her  stores  an,d  every  soul  on  board,  yet 
so  imposing  was  their  array,  that  they  were  landed  with 
out  opposition. 

Every  thing  that  man  could  do,  the  brave  Subercease 
essayed.  Although  a  tremendous  cannonade  was  opened 
upon  the  fort  from  within  a  hundred  yards  of  it,  the 
French  returned  shot  for  shot,  and  held  the  fort  for  seven 
days,  with  a  handfull  of  men,  against  five  regiments  with 
in  one  hundred  yards  of  them.  On  the  1st  of  October, 
the  English  had  three  batteries  open,  two  mortars,  and 
twenty-four  cohorn  mortars  mounted  ;  arid  on  the  evening 
of  that  day,  once  more  and  for  the  last  time,  the  misera- 


INTRODUCTION.  39 

ble,  persecuted,  and  deeply-injured  Acadians  passed  into 
the  hands  of  their  remorseless  foes,  the  English. 

Thus  fell  Port  Royal,  the  last  stronghold  of  the  French 
in  Nova  Scotia  ;  and  who  that  shall  read  the  subsequent  '; 
history  of  that  ill- fated  people,  the  Neutral  French,  but  I      •,  / 
will  mourn  the  day  ?     Alas !  alas  !  their  guardian  angel  \ 
had  fled  ;  their  friends,  the  savages,  were  not  near,  and    \ 
the  Baron  Castine,  not  being  prepared  for  this  event,  was 
far  away.     And  there  was  no  eye  to  pity,  and  no  arm  to 
save.     Their  lamp  has  gone  out,  their  star  has  set,  and 
their  sun  has  gone  down  in  utter  darkness.     Alas   for 
those  over  whom  the  iron  rod  of  oppression  shall  now 
fall,  until  the  last  ray  of  hope  has  departed. 

It  was  not,  however,  until  the  most  honorable  terms  of 
capitulation  had  been  agreed  upon,  that  the  gallant  com 
mander  of  the  French  consented  to-  surrender.  The 
garrison  marched  out  with  colors  flying,  drums  beating, 

&.C. 

It  seems  almost  a  waste  of  paper  to  record  these  arti 
cles.  Their  conquerors  appear  to  have  had  little  regard 
to  things  of  that  kind  at  that  day,  and  to  have  reserved 
to  themselves  the  privilege  of  construing  them  as  suited 
their  convenience.  The  victors,  in  fact,  observed  no  law 
that  was  not  agreeable  to  themselves.  In  the  present 
instance,  however,  or  at  least  for  the  time  being,  they 
thought  proper  to  preserve  some  regard  to  their  agree 
ment.  They  had  to  "  provide  ships  to  carry  the  garrison 
to  Rochelle,"  and  allow  them  "  to  carry  out  six  guns  and 
two  mortars,"  &,c. :  "  to  allow  the  officers  to  carry  all 
their  effects;  "  "  to  respect  the  effects  and  ornaments  of 
the  chapel  and  hospital  ;"  to  give  the  "  Canadians  leave 
to  retire  to  Canada ; "  and  to  "  carry  those  belonging  to 
the  islands  to  their  home." 

But  the  fifth  article  in  the  agreement,  specifying  for  the 
safety  of  **  all  the  inhabitants  within  cannon  shot  of  Port 
Royal,"  was  in  truth  a  singular  one.  It  was  probably 
intended  to  protect  the  persons  of  those  most  obnoxious 
to  the  conquerors,  who,  on  the  landing  of  the  British,  had 
harassed  them,  concealing  themselves  behind  houses  and 
fences,  and  killing  many  on  their  march  towards  the  fort. 
The  English  contended,  afterwards,  that  those  within 
cannon  shot  being  alone  specified,  the  remainder  of  the 
inhabitants  were  given  up  to  their  unconditional  mercies. 


40  INTRODUCTION. 

Upon  the  accession  of  Nova  Scotia,  the  English  imme 
diately  despatched  a  commissioner,  or  rather  a  deputation 
of  several  commissioners,  to  Vandrieul,  the  Governor  of 
Canada,  to  say,  "  that  if  he  did  not  restrain  the  savages 
under  his  control  from  further  incursions  into  New  Eng 
land,  they  would  take  revenge  for  every  act  of  hostility 
committed  by  them  upon  the  defenceless  Acadians  now 
in  their  power." 

The  French  Governor,  with  great  dignity,  returned  for 
answer  : 

"  That  the  evil  complained  of  might  have  been  pre 
vented  wholly,  at  an  early  day,  by  the  English  acceding 
to  a  proposal  of  his,  of  neutrality  between  the  two  prov 
inces  of  America,  while  the  parent  states  were  at  war  in 
Europe.  But  if  their  threats  were  put  in  execution, 
nothing  should  prevent  him  from  delivering  up  every 
English  prisoner  into  the  hands  of  the  India?is." 

This  threat  saved,  for  the  present,  the  poor  Acadians. 
As  to  restraining  the  Indians  altogether,  they  must  have 
known  it  was  beyond  his  power.  Vandrieul,  however, 
cherished  the  expectation,  as  most  reasonably  he  might, 
that  Nova  Scotia  would  again  be  restored  to  the  French. 
In  this  expectation,  the  deceived  Acadians  were  like 
wise  sanguine.  Vandrieul,  in  view  of  this,  appointed 
the  Baron  Castine  to  the  chief  command  of  Nova  Scotia, 
(then  called  Acadia,)  with  instiuctions  to  preserve  their 
loyalty  to  the  French  King  as  far  as  possible.  This 
person  actually  raised  a  force  and  attacked  a  party  of 
English  in  what  is  now  called  New  Brunswick,  and 
defeated  them,  and  *was  about  to  deliver  Port  Royal 
from  the  power  of  the  English  with  his  Indian  forces 
alone.  When  those  who  were  to  assist  him  from  Canada 
disappointed  him,  having  to  remain  to  defend  Quebec 
from  an  English  fleet  under  Sir  Hovendon  Walker. 

Aware  of  the  approach  of  the  Baron  Castine,  and  the 
probable  movements  of  the  French  and  Canadians  to 
assist  them,  the  commanding  British  officer  at  Port  Royal 
took  three  priests  and  five  of  the  principal  inhabitants, 
and  shut  them  up  as  hostages,  proclaiming  "  that  upon 
the  least  insurrectionary  movement,  he  would  execute 
these  innocent  persons  in  retaliation.'1  Despairing  then 
of  succor,  the  few  inhabitants  who  had  taken  up  arms, 


INTRODUCTION.  41 

laid  them  down  and  submitted.  But,  not  satisfied  with 
this,  the  English  began  to  scour  the  country  to  swear  the 
dispersed  inhabitants  to  allegiance.  Nothing,  at  any  time, 
created  such  sensation  among  the  Acadians  as  this  ;  from 
conscience,  they  always  uniformly  avoided  taking  an  oath, 
so  revolting  to  their  principles  :  arid  on  this  occasion  their 
blood  was  up. 

Having  been  disappointed  of  their  expected  succor 
from  Canada,  (which,  by  the  way,  was  only  two  hundred 
brave  Frenchmen  under  the  command  of  the  Marquis 
D'Alloigniers,)  they  were  obliged  to  lay  down  their  arms  ; 
but,  to  resist  the  taking  of  an  oath,  which  they  believed 
sinful,  they  determined.  It  is  not,  therefore,  unlikely 
that  they  procured  the  assistance  of  their  Indian  friends 
to  surprise  the  force  under  Captain  Pigeon,  an  officer  of 
the  English  regulars,  sent  out  on  this  ungrateful  service. 
It  is,  however,  quite  singular  that  no  history  accuses  them 
of  having  any  hand  in  it,  although  they  were  usually 
accused,  even  when  guiltless,  of  all  the  savage  enormities. 

The  craft,  whatever  it  was,  proceeded  up  the  river  to 
enforce  the  new  regulations,  and  reduce  all  the  disaffected 
to  obedience.  They  had  not  proceeded  far,  however, 
when  they  were  surprised  by  a  body  of  Indians,  who 
"  killed  the  fort  major,  the  engineer,  and  all  the  boat's 
crew,  and  took  from  thirty  to  forty  English  prisoners. 
(The  scene  of  this  disaster  is  about  twelve  miles  above 
the  fort  on  the  road  to  Halifax,  and  is  still  called  Bloody 
Creek.)  The  success  of  this  ambuscade  tempted  the 
inhabitants  to  take  up  arms  again,  and  five  hundred  of 
them,  with  as  many  Indians  as  they  could  collect,  em 
bodied  themselves  to  attack  the  fort."  But  it  was  in 
vain  ;  a  fiat  had  gone  forth,  and  all  future  effort  seemed 
to  be  useless.  They  lacked  an  efficient  officer,  and  sent 
to  Placentia  for  one  ;  but  the  Governor  of  that  place  was 
unable  to  spare  one,  and  they  had  to  abandon  the  enter 
prise  and  disperse. 

Immediately  after  this,  or  almost  while  it  was  going  on, 
a  peace  was  concluded  between  England  and  France, 
which  set  the  seal  to  the  fate,  and  crushed  forever  the 
hopes  of  the  wretched  Acadians.  Great  rejoicings  were 
caused  in  New  England  by  the  news  of  this  treaty.  And 
4* 


42  INTRODUCTION. 

as  to  France,  the  English  historian  says  she  only  "  lost  a 
country  of  which  she  had  never  known  the  value." 

The  long  looked-for  event  of  peace,  the  Acadians  had 
been  taught  to  anticipate  as  the  end  of  their  sorrows,  and 
the  bursting  of  their  bonds.  Instead  of  which,  (the  re 
verse  must  have  been  dreadful !)  the  poor,  simple-hearted, 
trusting  Acadians  found  themselves  delivered  up  to  the 
power  of  their  enemies,  forsaken  by  the  parent  govern 
ment  ;  their  beautiful  and  beloved  country,  to  which  they 
had  clung  with  unexampled  fidelity,  even  when  the  means 
of  subsistence  appeared  almost  to  fail ;  when  their  fields 
were  blazing  and  their  houses  levelled  with  the  dust ; 
when"  stripped  of  their  clothing,  and  all  that  they  pos-  ( 
sessed  a  prey  to  the  spoiler,  was  now  given,  irrevocably 
given,  to  that  enemy,  whose  tender  mercies  they  had  so 
often  found  to  be  cruelty. 

The  articles  of  Utrecht  were  signed  on  the  1 1th  of 
April,  1717  ;  and  blinded,  infatuated  France,  by  them 
stipulated  not.  only  to  give  up  the  whole  country  called 
Acadia,  but  the  privilege  of  their  fisheries  on  the  coast, 
or  within  thirty  leagues  of  it. 

From  this  period  that  country  (or  Nova  Scotia  proper) 
has  continued  in  the  hands  of  the  English  ;  and  though 
France  declared  war  against  England  in  1774,  nothing 
of  consequence  was  done  towards  the  recovery  of  that 
country.  In  fact,  they  lost  Cape  Breton  the  next  year, 
and  in  1760  they  lost  Canada  too: 

We  have  endeavored  not  to  mix  up  the  affairs  of  Canada 
and  Cape  Breton  with  the  history  of  that  interesting  por 
tion  of  the  country  of  which  it  is  our  design  to  treat. 
But  the  reader  will  see,  by  looking  back  to  the  history  of 
that  period,  that  the  attempts  of  the  English  were  steadily 
going  on  in  these  two  places  at  the  same  time.  The  fall 
of  Louisbourg,  the  seige  of  Quebec,  &c.  are  well  remem 
bered,  and  our  limits  will  not  permit  us  to  treat  of  them 
here. 

To  return  to  the  Acadians,  left  in  the  power  of  their 
ancient  enemies.  What  were  they  to  do  ?  Their  desire 
was  for  the  most  part  to  dwell  among  the  subjects  of  the 
French  government.  Some  wanted  to  go  to  France, 
some  to  Canada,  some  wished  to  go  to  Cape  Breton,  and 
some  to  the  French  West  Indies — so  that  they  could  get 


INTRODUCTION.  43 

among  people  of  their  own  nation  and  language,  it  did  j 
not  seem  very  important  which,  and  they  would  probably 
have  settled  that  point  without  any  difficulty.  But,  upon 
making  application,  they  were  told  "  they  could  not  de 
part  in  English  built  vessels,  and  French  vessels  would 
not  be  permitted  to  enter  their  harbors." 

For  a  long  time  these  harassed  people  kept  back  from 
taking  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  English  monarch, 
George  the  Second.  But  at  length,  upon  the  most  solemn 
assurance  "  they  should  not  be  compelled  to  bear  arms 
against  the  French,  and  permitted  the  free  exercise  of 
their  religion,  they  consented.  This  was  not  until  six 
years  after  the  treaty  of  Utrecht;  and  from  this  time,  , 
1719,  they  went  by. the  name  of  the  "  Neutral  French.'5 

At  first,  considerable  pains  were  taken  by  their  new 
masters  to  conciliate  them.  Their  services  were  wanted;, 
in  the  construction  of  dikes  and  roads  ;  from  their  long 
acquaintance  with  the  soil,  too,  they  were  qualified  to 
assist  in  its  cultivation  ;  and,  above  all,  fears  of  an  insur 
rection  disposed  the  English  to  treat  them  with  tolerable 
decency.  But,  at  length,  matters  assumed  a  different 
aspect,  and  they  were,  upon  one  pretence  or  another, 
deprived  of  their  privileges  until  even  the  shadow  of 
liberty  departed  ;  and  they  were  left  to  feel,  in  bitterness 
of  spirit,  that  they  were  not  only  a  conquered  people,  but, 
owing  to  their  French  origin,  a  hated  one,  and  that  they 
were  regarded  with  irreconcilable  enmity.  Their  lan 
guage,  too,  operated  a  sad  disadvantage  to  them.  Sus 
pected  often  of  mischief  and  plotting,  when  they  did  not 
even  understand  the  difficulty,  or  even  if  they  compre 
hended  it,  incapable  of  explaining  themselves  to  the  satis 
faction  of  their  accusers ;  and,  in  addition  to  this,  their 
masters  were  disposed  to  visit  upon  them  the  atrocities 
and  barbarities  of  the  Indians  ever  since  the  settlement 
of  the  country. 

The  zeal  of  the  English  in  settling  and  colonizing 
their  new  possessions,  we  are  told,  "  bore  no  proportion 
to  their  desire  to  possess  it."  They  did  indeed  hold  out 
inducements  to  emigrants  to  colonize  ;  but  the  number  of 
foreigners  residing  there,  and  the  belief  that  it  would 
again  become  the  seat  of  war,  proved  a  great  impedi 
ment.  The  hostile  disposition  of  the  Indians,  too,  de 
terred  many. 


44  INTRODUCTION. 

It  seems  the  Indians  were  not  named  in  the  treaty  of 
Utrecht;  and  to  this  omission,  probably,  may  be  attribu 
ted  many  of  the  difficulties  that  ensued.  The  savages 
themselves  could  not  comprehend  the  nature  of  the 
transaction,  by  means  of  which  the  French  inhabitants 
of  Acadia  quietly  submitted  themselves  to  the  dominion 
of  their  ancient  foes,  and  they  applied  to  Vandrieul,  the 
Governor  of  Canada,  for  an  explanation.  He  endeavored 
to  enlighten  them,  and  at  the  same  time  informed  them 
"  they  were  not  named  in  the  treaty."  Bitter  complaints 
were  afterwards  made  by  the  English,  that  the  French, 
ever  after  the  conquest  of  the  country,  affected  to  consider 
the  Indians  as  an  independent  people.  Whatever  weight 
this  accusation  might  have  had  in  the  colonies  in  that 
day,  we  believe  it  would  be  difficult  to  name  the  time 
when  the  French  did  not  consider  them  as  such,  and 
acknowledge  it  in  their  intercourse  with  them. 

One  of  the  most  singular  accusations  brought  against 
the  French  at  that  time  was,  that  "  they  had  told  the 
Indians  the  English  were  the  people  who  crucified  our 
Saviour."  This  story  was  very  current  in  New  England 
at  that  day,  and  the  various  cruelties  of  the  Indians  often 
attributed  to  it.  There  is  nothing  to  support  such  a 
charge ;  and  Halliburton,  the  English  historian  of  Nova 
Scotia,  entirely  discredits  it.  The  fact  was,  that  "  the 
affections  of  the  Indians,  violent  and  ardent,  were  towards 
the  French."  They  were  now,  many  of  them,  united  by 
one  faith  and  one  baptism.  They  were  the  first  they  had 
known  of  the  white  people,  and  they  could  not  but  look 
upon  the  English  as  intruders  and  interlopers.  They 
had,  as  neighbors,  always  lived  peaceably  and  amicably 
with  them,  and  in  their  dealings  been  dealt  fairly  with, 
while  in  their  trades  with  the  English,  they  almost  uni 
formly  found  themselves  deceived  and  cheated  ;  and  the 
wrath  of  the  North  American  savage  when  once  aroused, 
it  is  known,  is  unappeasable  unless  by  the  immolation  of 
the  offenders,  revenge  being  a  passion  perfectly  savage, 
and  with  savages  considered  the  highest  virtue.  They 
had  too,  before  this,  made  the  quarrel  of  the  French 
theirs,  and  now  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  the  French  to 
restrain  them.  And  although  the  Acadians,  for  the  most 
part,  tillers  of  the  soil,  or  living  by  the  fisheries,  seemed 


INTRODUCTION.  45 

after  this  to  have  sat  down  peaceable  and  contented,  and 
almost  indifferent  ns  to  who  governed,  provided  they  might 
fre  permitted  to  rennin  quiet,  and  not  compelled  to  bear 
arms  against  their  countrymen,  whom  they  still  loved,  or 
the  Indians,  whom  they  feared,  and  to  whom  their  scat 
tered  settlements  were  particularly  exposed,  yet  the  In 
dians  themselves  would  not  remain  so,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  their  aggressions  called  for  merited  punish 
ment. 

In  1720,  they  attacked  Canseau,  where  the  English 
had  erected  a  fishing  establishment,  and  carried  off  prop 
erty  to  the  amount  of  ^20,000.  Several  lives  were  lost 
in  the  attempt  to  defend  >t.  In  the  next  year  a  vessel 
was  seized  at  Passamaquoddy,  on  her  way  from  Annapo 
lis  to  Boston,  and  Mr.  Binney,  the  collector,  and  several 
other  gentlemen  were  made  prisoners.  Reprisals  were 
made  by  the  English,  and  twenty-two  of  the  Indians 
seized  and  put  in  confinement  by  the  Governor,  until  they 
were  released.  Other  vessels  were  taken  in  the  same 
year,  and  some  of  the  crews  murdered  by  them  ;  and  in 
1723  they  again  surprised  Canseau,  and  captured  seven 
teen  sail  of  fishing  vessels,  putting  nine  individuals  to 
death,  and  carrying  twenty  prisoners  to  Lunenburg  to 
sacrifice  to  the  manes  of  thirty  of  their  own  men  slain  in 
the  conflict.  These  twenty  seamen  were  timely  rescued 
by  an  English  vessel,  which  arrived  and  ransomed  them 
and  the  vessels,  though  not  without  some  difficulty. 
Shortly  after,  they  attacked  the  garrison  at  Annapolis, 
burned  two  houses,  and  killed  and  scalped  a  sergeant 
and  private,  and  took  several  prisoners. 

Although  the  English  might  have  seen  in  these  depre 
dations  an  almost  exact  copy,  in  miniature,  of  their  own 
former  ravages  in  Nova  Scotia,  their  pillaging,  murder, 
&,c.,  it  does  not  appear  they  thought  once  of  the  example 
they  had  set  to  this  untutored  and  uncivilized  race  in 
this  very  region.  But  as  it  happened  about  the  ox  and 
the  cow,  the  parties  becoming  vice  versa,  entirely  changed 
the  nature  of  the  case,  and  the  lesser  enormities  of  the 
savages  were  exclaimed  against  as  something  never  heard 
of  before. 

The  Indians  of  the  western  portion  of  Nova  Scotia 
were  a  part  of  the  great  Abenequi  nation,  a  part  of  whom 


46  INTRODUCTION. 

inhabited  the  now  State  of  Maine,  and  acknowledged 
the  Baron  Castine  as  their  leader.  The  present  baron 
was  son  of  the  former,  and  is  described  as  one  of  the 
most  elegant  young  men  of  his  day.  From  his  personal 
and  literary  qualifications,  he  was  muc*h  thought  of,  and 
from  his  great  wealth  and  connexions,  (his  mother  being 
one  of  their  tribe,)  he  was  supposed  to  have  unbounded 
influence  with  them,  and  upon  this  presumption  was 
seized  before  these  last  aggressions,  carried  to  Boston, 
and  imprisoned.  His  defence — which  will  be  found  in 
another  part  of  this  work — was  dignified  and  manly,  and 
seemed  to  have  had  great  effect  on  his  accusers,  as  he 
was  immediately  released.  History  says,  "  partly  from 
a  dread  of  exasperating  the  Indians  beyond  all  hope  of 
reconciliation,  and  partly  from  the  difficulty  of  consider 
ing  him  a  traitor  who  had  never  acknowledge^  himself 
a  subject,  it  was  deemed  prudent  to  release  him."  But, 
whatever  suspicions  they  chose  to  have  of  this  individual, 
all  that  is  known  of  him  ought,  even  at  this  day,  to  ex 
clude  him  from  blame.  It  is  beyond  dispute  that  he 
possessed  a  most  humane  and  benevolent  temper,  and 
employed  his  great  influence  with  his  tribe  to  humanize 
and  civilize  them,  on  all  prudent  occasions.  Soon  after 
this  he  went  to  France  to  take  possession  of  his  paternal 
.estates,  and  returned  no  more.  Tradition  says  there  was 
a  sad  and  melancholy  look  about  him,  that  rather  added 
to  than  diminished  his  attractions ;  the  effect,  it  was 
supposed,  of  the  increasing  miseries  and  degradation  of 
his  tribe.  It  would  be  a  subject  oT  pleasing  investigation 
to  follow  the  history  of  this  extraordinary  individual  and 
his  family  through  subsequent  generations.  But  his  story 
is  lost  to  us  from  the  time  of  his  reaching  his  father's 
native  land. 

There  were  some  few  aggressions  on  land  that  imme 
diately  followed  those  last  mentioned.  And  now  comes 
the  plan  of  revenge  contrived  by  the  English,  and  exe 
cuted  with  remorseless  cruelty  and  injustice. 

There  existed  at  that  time  a  very  be'autiful  settlement 
of  the  Indians  at  Norridgevvoack,  (now  Norridgewock,) 
on  the  Kennebec.  It  was  a  Christian  settlement,  and 
acknowledged  an  aged  missionary  as  their  pastor,  who 
had  been  among  the  Indians  forty  years.  The  Indians 


INTRODUCTION.  47 

loved  and  almost  idolized  him,  and  were  at  all  times 
ready  to  hazard  their  lives  for  his  preservation.  This 
village,  besides  a  great  number  of  huts,  contained  a 
church,  a  huge  cross  in  the  middle,  and  was  defended  by 
a  rude  encampment. 

The  priest  Ralle  was  a  person  well  known  as  a  scholar. 
He  had,  previous  to  this,  carried  on  a  controversial  corre 
spondence  with  some  gentleman  in  Boston,  which  proved 
his  literary   attainments  to  be  of  a   high  order,   though 
perfectly  useless  in  his  present  situation.     Halliburton,  a 
scholar  and  a  man  of  taste  himself,  pronounces  his  Latin 
to  have  been  "  pure,  classical,  and  elegant."     It  appears, 
also,  that  the  priest  was  conversant  with  the  English  and 
Dutch  languages,  and  master  of  the  several  dialects  of 
the   Abenequi   nation.     But   all   these   accomplishments, 
together  with  his  high  sense  of  religion,  his  deep  devotion 
to  the  cause  and  salvation  of  these  benighted  beings,  and 
his  life  altogether,  which  was  literally  one  long  martyr 
dom,  seems  to  have  been  lost  upon  those  who  only  saw 
one  fault,  namely,  that  he  was  a  correspondent  and  friend 
of  the  Governor  of  Canada,  and  he  might  have  instigated 
the  Indians    to    hostility.     Under   this   impression   they 
fitted  out  a  force  from  Massachusetts,  consisting  of  two 
hundred  and  eight  men,  with  orders  to  attack  the  village. 
On  the   12th  of  August,    1724,  this   force   arrived  at 
Norridgewoack,  having  marched  with  such  secrecy  as  to 
.come  upon  them  entirely  unawares,  and  the  consequence 
was,    a   tremendous   slaughter   of   the   Indians    ensued. 
Many  of  the  Indians  had  fled  upon  the  first  appearance 
of  the  enemy.     Charlevoix  relates  that  the  priest  Ralle, 
though  unprepared,  was  not  intimidated,  and  shew  him 
self  at  once  in   front,  in  hopes  to  divert  the  attention  of 
the  enemy  to  himself,  and  screen  his  beloved  flock  by  the 
voluntary  offer  of  his  own  life.     The  historian  adds,  that 
"  as  soon   as  he  was  seen  he  was  saluted  with  a  great 
shout   and   a  shower  of  bullets,   and  fell  together  with 
seven  Indians,  who  had  rushed  out  of  their  tents  to  de 
fend  him  with  their  bodies  ;  and  that  when  the  pursuit 
had  ceased,  the  Indians  who  had  fled,  returned  to  weep 
over  their  beloved  missionary,  and  found  him  dead  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross;  his  body  perforated  with  balls,  his  head 
scalped,   his  skiMl  broken  with  blows  of  hatchets,   his 


48  INTRODUCTION. 

mouth  and  eyes  filled  with  mud,  the  bones  of  his  legs 
broken,  and  his  limbs  dreadfully  mangled.  Aftar  having 
bathed  his  remains  with  their  tears,  they  buried  him  on 
the  site  of  the  chapel,  the  chapel  itself  having  been  hewn 
down,  with  its  crucifix,  and  whatever  else  they  considered" 
emblems  of  idolatry.  They  had  likewise  destroyed  the 
buildings  and  pillaged  the  encampment.  Now,  beneath 
its  ruins,  was  interred  the  body  of  him  who  had  the  very 
evening  before  celebrated  the  rites  of  his  church  within 
its  walls." 

The  reader  may  find  a  biographical  sketch  of  the  life 
of  the  priest  Ralle,  given  in  the  eighth  volume  of  the 
second  series  of  the  "  Massachusetts  Historical  Collec 
tion,"  page  250. 

The  Abenequi  nation  was  composed  of  many  different 
tribes,  and  the  distance  between  many  of  them  very 
great.  Hence  the  improbability  of  every  petty  depreda 
tion  being  concerted  by  the  whole  nation  at  once.  There 
is  no  doubt  at  this  time,  that  the  different  tribes  gratified 
their  thievish  or  revengeful  propensities  whenever  or 
wherever  occasion  offered  them  facilities.  Norridge- 
vvoack  was  the  original  cognomen  of  the  tribe  of  which 
Father  Ralle  was  priest  or  pastor  at  the  time  of  the  cruel 
slaughter  of  these  the  best  and  most  civilized  of  all  the 
tribes,  and  of  the  learned,  intelligent,  and  benevolent 
Ralle.  There  was  found  in  his  cabin,  among  other 
things,  a  manuscript  dictionary  of  the  Abenequi,  or  eastern 
languages,  which  was  carefully  preserved,  and  was  print 
ing  at  Cambridge  (Mass.)  in  1832.  We  presume  it  has 
been  completed,  and  may  now  be  found  in  the  library  of 
Harvard  University,  and  perhaps  in  others.  The  bell,  too, 
of  Father  Ralle's  little  chapel  escaped  the  spirit  of  exter 
mination  and  puritanical  bigotry,  and  is  preserved  to  this 
4ay  in  the  cabinet  of  Bowdoin  College,  at  Brunswick, 
(Maine.) 

We  go  back  to  the  Acadians,  who,  as  a  people,  appear 
ed  to  sit  quietly  down  under  the  government  that  they 
now  comprehended  was  to  control  them.  The  storm  of 
war,  they  trusted,  had  now  passed  over  them  for  the  last 
time.  It  had  taken  their  wisest  and  bravest,  and  those 
left  behind  were  a  peaceful  people,  liting  in  a  happy 
contentment.  Indeed,  they  seemed  \fae  realization  of 


INTRODUCTION.  49 

pastoral  life,  as  pictured  in  the  description  of  Arcadia  of 
old.  With  many,  and  indeed  with  most,  there  was  an 
indignant  feeling  at  being  deserted  by  their  King,  and 
irrevocably  made  over  to  their  ancient  enemy,  and  this 
feeling  disposed  them  to  submit  more  cheerfully  to  their 
present  masters.  With  the  most  astonishing  persever 
ance,  they  once  more  raised  the  broken  dikes,  rebuilt 
towns  and  villages,  and  assisted,  when  called  upon,  to 
build  up  the  forts  for  the  English.  Thus,  while  they 
were  continually  laboring  to  make  the  country  valuable, 
the  authorities  of  the  province  were,  on  the  other  hand, 
laboring  to  enslave  them. 

From  the  period  of  the  last  conquest  of  Port  Royal. 
every  thing  seemed  to  confirm  the  despotism  of  the  Eng 
lish  over  this  fated  province.  Louisburg,  the  "  Dunkirk 
of  America,"  the  capital  of  Cape  Breton,  had  surrendered 
to  the  arms  of  the  English,  or  more  properly  to  the  arms 
of  the  colonies  in  New  England,  after  a  siege  of  thirty- 
nine  days,  and  their  Catholic  .brethren  in  that  region 
treated  with  great  rigor.  It  will  be  remembered  this 
place  was  taken  by  a  force  from  Massachusetts  of  thirty- 
two  hundred  men,  aided  by  five  hundred  from  Connecti 
cut,  and  three  hundred  from  Rhode  Island,  planned  by 
Governor  Shirley  of  Massachusetts,  and  commanded  by 
William  Pepperell,  Esq.  of  that  State,  afterwards  knight 
ed  for  his  prowess  in  this  expedition.  There  were  many 
to  whom  the  growing  exactions  of  the  British  had  become 
exceedingly  galling,  and  who  looked  forward  to  a  removal 
to  Cape  Breton  as  the  only  asylum,  and  the  most  secure 
one,  whose  last  hope  expired  when  Louisburg  fell.  Prev 
ious,  however,  to  the  fall  of  that  place,  an  attempt  had 
been  made  by  the  celebrated  De  Quesnal,  Governor  of 
Cape  Breton,  to  free  the  Acadians.  It  was  immediately 
after  the  declaration  of  war  against  England  by  the  French 
court  in  1.744.  In  this  attempt  the  brave  De  Quesnal 
was  premature  and  rash,  having  received  express  orders 
with  the  declaration,  "  not  to  attack  any  post  in  Nova 
Scotia  until  further  orders."  Believing,  however,  that 
he  should  receive  great  accessions  from  the  disaffected 
inhabitants,  he  ventured  to  disobey  the  orders  of  his 
government,  and  make  a  descent  upon  Canseau,  under 
Du  Vivier,  on  the  llth  of  May,  and  was  instantly  joined 


50  INTRODUCTION. 

by  two  hundred  Indians.  The  garrison  under  Captain 
Heron  surrendered.  He  then  proceeded  to  Annapolis, 
where,  after  an  unsuccessful  siege  of  four  weeks,  he  finally 
retired  to  Minas,  (now  Horton,)  where  he  destroyed  the 
fortifications  and  English  houses,  and  then  retired  to  Bay 
Verte,  and  then  to  Canada.  During  this  season,  an  at 
tempt  was  also  made 'upon  Annapolis  by  one  Luttre,  a 
French  priest,  with  three  hundred  Indians.  Wherever 
the  French  force  appeared,  there  was  a  general  rising  of 
the  Indians,  who  immediately  flocked  to  their  standard. 
Not  so  the  Acadians,  who,  on  all  these  occasions,  main 
tained  their  character  of  neutrals  as  a  people,  with  only 
the  occasional  defection  of  a  few  young  and  daring  spirits. 
Painful  as  must  have  been  their  feelings,  they  respected 
their  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  English  monarch,  and 
loathed  the  scenes  of  carnage  and  blood. 

The  resentment  of  the  English  against  the  Indians  was 
now  at  its  height,  and  the  government  of  Massachusetts 
denounced  them  as  "  enemies  and  rebels,"  and  declared 
war  against  them,  while  "  the  savages  of  the  different 
New  England  tribes  were  forbidden  to  hold  any  inter 
course  with  them."  So  far  it  was  right;  but  we  shrink 
from  the  remainder  of  the  proclamation,  which  went  on  to 
offer  premiums  for  capturing  and  scalping  them.  "  One 
hundred  pounds  for  each  male  above  twelve  years  of  age 
if  scalped,  one  hundred  and  five  if  taken  prisoner  ;  fifty 
pounds  for  each  woman  and  child  scalped,  and  fifty 
if  brought  in  alive."  Irritated  by  this,  a  French  officer 
in  Canada  immediately  raised  a  force  of  nine  hundred 
Indians,  and  invested  Annapolis.  But  from  this  attack 
they  were  immediately  called  to  the  relief  of  Louisbourg, 
(Cape  Breton,)  which  was  now  invested  by  land  and  by 
sea.  They  were  prevented  by  the  English  ships  from 
crossing  the  strait,  and  had  to  retire  to  Minas,  Thus  that 
devoted  island  lost  their  serf  ices.  Their  storeships,  also, 
from  stress  of  weather,  were  compelled  to  retire  to  the 
West  Indies ;  their  gallant  Governor,  Du  Quesnal,  died 
suddenly  ;  Duchamber,  his  successor,  had  not,  alas !  his 
skill  or  vigor ;  and  thus  this  beautiful  place  and  strong 
fortress,  which  had  cost  the  French  al|feady  not  less  than 
thirty  millions  of  livres,  and  twenty-five  years'  labor,  and 
not  yet  completed,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  English  after 
a  siege  of  forty-nine  days, 


INTRODUCTION.  51 

We  wish  the  limits  of  our  work  would  permit  a  descrip 
tion  of  this  splendid  fortress,  and  the  means  employed 
for  its  reduction.  But  the  description  alone  of  a  town 
defended  by  a  wall  two  miles  and  a  half  in  circumference, 
constituting  a  rampart  thirty-six  feet  high,  and  environed 
with  a  ditch  eighty  feet  wide ;  with  its  church,  and  ar 
senal,  and  hospital,  and  other  elegant  structures  :  its  bas 
tions,  and  batteries,  and  embrazures  for  one  hundred  and 
forty-eight  cannon  ;  its  light-house,  and  the  beautiful  town 
without  the  walls,  would  fill  a  volume.  Its  walls  are 
demolished,  and  its  palaces  laid  low  in  the  dust.  The 
French  made  two  essays  to  recover  Louisbourg  ;  but  the 
Providence  of  God  seemed  to  have  destined  their  disap 
pointment,  sometimes  by  storms,  and  sometimes  by  arms. 
It  was  upon  the  expedition  to  Louisbourg,  that  the  banner 
was  presented  to  the  famous  George  Whitefield  for  a  motto. 
This  person  was  at  the  time  preaching  with  great  success 
in  New  England.  He  was  a  man  of  most  remarkable 
powers  of  oratory,  but  so  exceedingly  singular  and  eccen 
tric  in  his  manner,  that  many  and  very  discordant  opinions 
have  been  expressed  of  his  piety.  But  as  he  was  the 
happy  instrument  of  turning  many  to  righteousness,  we 
must  charitably  conclude  he  was  a  good  man.  Aware 
that  they  wished  to  have  this  expedition  considered  as  a 
crusade,  he  blessed  the  banner  by  giving  it  the  motto, 
"  Nil  desperandum  Christo  duce" — we  despair  of  nothing, 
Christ  being  our  leader.  Many  of  his  enthusiastic  follow 
ers  engaged  in  the  enterprise,  and  some  of  them,  preach 
ers  too,  carried  hatchets  to  hew  down  the  images  in  the 
churches,  with  which  they  contrived,  it  seems,  to  hew 
down  churches  also,  and  every  thing  else  they  could  get  at. 

We  have  said  that  the  reins  of  power  seemed  to  be  | 
drawn  tighter,  from  time  to  time,  after  the  conquest  of 
Port  Royal,  and  a  regular' despotism  to  commence  from 
that  epoch.  We  proceed  to  say  in  what  manner  it  was' 
manifested.  And  here  we  must  premise,  that  we  can 
only  name  some  of  the  most  outrageous  and  glaring  abuses, 
and  of  them  only  give  a  very  slight  sketch.  In  the  first 
place,  then,  the  Acadians  were  not  only  debarred  from  hold 
ing  any  office  of  trust  in  the  colony,  robbed  of  their  right 
of  representation,  a  shadow  of  which  had  at  first  been  ac 
corded  them,  but,  after  a  few  years,  formally  excluded 


52  INTRODUCTION. 

from  the  right  of  adjudication  in  their  courts  of  justice — 
an  act  of  tyranny  the  most  ruinous  and  oppressive,  as 
well  as  the  most  arbitrary  that  could  be  conceived  <•;', 
since,  let  their  individual  abuses  and  losses  be  what  they 
might,  they  had  no  appeal  to  the  law  for  remedy.  The 
state  of  things  this  was  calculated  to  produce  must  be 
obvious.  The  strong  had  the  power  to  encroach  upon  the 
weak,  without  the  oppressed  having  the  power  to  defend 
themselves.  (Their  boundaries  and  the  .titles  to  their 
lands,  by  this  means,  became  involved  in  the  greatest 
confusion.  "^But  yet  so  amicably  did  this  gentle  race  live 
among  themselves,  that,  as  respected  each  other,  it  made 
but  little  difference.  They  were  accustomed  to  put  their 
title-deeds  and  wills  into  the  hands  of  their  pastors  for 
safe  keeping  ;  and  in  any  little  dispute  among  themselves, 
to  refer  the  matter  to  him,  and  be  governed  by  his  advice. 
Their  time  was  also  often  required  in  the  construction  of 
dikes  for  the  English,  erecting  fortifications,  making  roads, 
&c.,  as  well  as  supplying  the  British  armed  force  with 
fuel,  for  which  no  compensation  was  allowed.  They  were 
narrowly  watched,  and  subjected  to  most  vexatious  re 
straints  and  intermeddling.  But  all  these  were  end  in  id 
with  patience,  with  almost  superhuman  fortitude. 

Meanwhile,  more  than  five  years  had  elapsed  since  the 
treaty  of  Utrecht,  before  any  great  progress  had  been 
made  in  the  settlement  of  the  country  by  the  English. 
But  a  scheme  was  devised  about  this  time  for  effecting 
English  settlements  along  the  coast  and  in  the  interior, 
which  would  not  only  secure  to  them  the  future  possession 
of  the  colony,  but  actually  improve  its  nominal  value,  by 
the  improvements  they  would  introduce.  They  now  made 
an  offer  of  land  to  all  officers  and  privates  lately  dismissed 
from  the  army  or  navy  of  Great  Britain,  to  settle  there ; 
the  conditions  of  which  were  fifty  acres  to  every  private, 
eighty  to  officers  under  the  aank  of  ensign  in  the  army  or 
lieutenant  in  the  navy,  two  hundred  to  ensigns,  three 
hundred  to  lieutenants,  four  hundred  to  captains,  and  six 
hundred  to  any  above  that  rank,  free  from  quit-rents,  for 
ten  years ;  also  to  transport  them  and  their  families  free 
of  expense,  maintain  them  one  year,  supply  them  with 
arms  to  defend  themselves  at  the  expense  of  government. 
&c.  &c. 


INTRODUCTION.  53 

The  scheme  was  so  alluring  that,  in  a  short  time,  thirty- 
seven  hundred  and  sixty  were  on  their  way,  and  =£40,000 
voted  to  pay  their  expenses.  Arrived,  they  chose  an  es-  -, 
tablishment  at  Chebucto  harbor ;  and  this  was  the  com-  • 
mencement  of  the  settlement  of  Halifax,  called  so  in 
honor  of  the  nobleman  of  that  name,  who  had  the  great 
est  share  in  founding  the  colony.  The  Indians  continued, 
occasionally,  to  harass  the  English,  and,  as  often  as  they 
could  surprise  small  parties  in  the  woods,  would  kill,  scalp, 
or  make  them  prisoners.  In  addition  to  which,  a  French 
officer  from  Canada  came  down  with  a  company  of  In 
dians  and  erected  a  fort  on  the  neck  of  land  connecting 
Nova  Scotia  and  New  Brunswick,  and  even,  as  was  then 
reported,  threatened  Halifax  into  the  fort,  which  they 
denominated  Beau  Sejour,  (English  name  Cumberland.) 
They  impressed  three  hundred  young  men  of  the  Aca- 
dians ;  and  this,  though  the  great  body  of  that  people 
formally  denounced,  and  always  protested  was  done  with 
out  their  concurrence,  was  the  cause  of  much  crimina 
tion,  and  furnished  a  very  plausible  pretext  for  abuse  of 
that  unfortunate  people.  The  charge,  too,  of  supplying 
the  Indians  with  arms  and  ammunition,  was  made  much 
of,  though  they  very  feelingly  protested  they  dared  not 
deny  any  thing  demanded  by  that  murderous  race,  as 
instant  vengeance  would  have  followed  the  refusal ;  of 
that  of  instigating  them  to  acts  of  vengeance,  they  utterly 
denied,  with  the  most  solemn  protestations  of  innocence. 
But  there  they  were,  and  their  very  existence  was  a  crime. 
Their  temperate  policy  under  all  their  burthens,  as  it 
supplied  no  excuse  for  destroying  them,  was  still  more 
provoking.  Never  was  there  a  stronger  proof  that  "  peace 
of  mind  does  not  depend  upon  outward  circumstances."  ^ 
Their  population  increased  rapidly,  and  their  riches  also.*' 

At  the  period  at  which  our  story  commences,  1755,  the 
French  Neutrals  numbered  eighteen,  some  say  twenty 
thousand  souls.  Their  manner  of  life  had  gradually 
changed  in  one  respect,  and  that  an  improvement,  as  far 
as  the  domestic  character  was  concerned,  for  they  gradu 
ally  gave  up  hunting  and  fishing,  and  addicted  themselves 
to  the  pursuits  of  agriculture  altogether.  The  immense 
meadows  th^y  had  rescued  from  the  sea,  so  repeatedly 
and  with  such  industry,  were  covered  with  flocks  of  sheep 


54  INTRODUCTION. 

or  herds  of  cattle.  "  They  possessed  sixty  thousand  head 
of  horned  cattle,  and  most  families  had  several  horses, 
although  the  tillage  was  carried  on  by  oxen."  Their 
habitations  were  as  substantial  and  convenient  as  most 
farm-houses  in  Europe.  Each  farmer  raised  his  own 
grain  and  a  variety  of  vegetables,  and  they  manufactured 
their  own  clothing  from  wool  and  flax,  which  they  raised 
in  abundance.  They  abounded  in  fine  orchards,  and 
their  usual  drink  was  beer  and  cider.  If  any  of  them 
coveted  articles  of  luxury,  they  procured  them  from  An 
napolis  or  Louisbourg,  and  in  exchange  gave  them  corn, 
cattle,  or  furs.  They  likewise  reared  a  vast  deal  of 
poultry. 

Of  the  morals  of  these  people,  contemporaneous  history 
speaks  volumes  in  one  sentence,  namely,  "  an  illegiti 
mate  child  was  unknown  in  their  settlements*  What  a 
comment !  One  great  reason  of  this  probably  was,  "  their 
young  people  were  encouraged  to  marry  early  ;  and  in  all 
their  settlements,  whenever  there  was  a  marriage,  the 
company  got  together  and  built  them  a  house  and  fur 
nished  them  with  a  year's  provision,  and  the  females 
always  brought  their  portions  in  flocks.  Fifty  years  of 
comparative  quiet  had  done  wonders  for  this  people. 
Their  chapels  had  been  rebuilt  and  improved,  and  new 
ones  erected  ;  and  although  their  priests  were  subjected 
to  the  most  vexatious  restraints  in  travelling  from  place 
to  place,  &c.,  they  contrived  to  keep  these  people  united 
in  one  bond  of  love.  The  pastors  were  not  only  their 
priests,  but  lawyers,  judges,  schoolmasters,  and  physi 
cians  ;  and  all  the  remuneration  they  received  was  a 
twenty-seventh  part  of  their  income,  voluntarily  set  off  to 
them  by  the  people. 

*  That  such  a  state  of  simplicity  and  social  happiness 
could  exist  in  this  jarring  world,  may  well  be  a  matter  of 
wonder  in  these  days,  when  luxury  arid  extravagance  has 
almost  banished  simplicity  from  the  earth.  The  truth, 
however,  is  too  well  established  by  contemporary  histori 
ans  to  be  doubted ;  and,  moreover,  of  those  of  this  people 
who  survive  in  their  descendants,  and  may  yet  be  found 
in  scattered  portions  in  the  country,  the  character  of 
piety,  benevolence,  integrity,  simplicity,  and  honesty,  is 
still  kept  up. 


INTRODUCTION.  55 

That  such  a  people  could  possibly  give  offence ;  that 
they  could,  in  any  way,  become  so  obnoxious  as  to  cause 
their  expulsion  from  the  territory,  from  the  land  of  their 
nativity,  by  those  who  had  the  rule  over  them,  is  equally 
astonishing.  But,  as  historians,  we  are  bound  to  hear 
the  arguments  of  their  antagonists,  to  state  the  accusa 
tions  upon  which  so  inhuman  a  measure  was  determined 
on,  leaving  it  to  the  judgment  of  every  individual  to 
decide  whether  they  were  well  founded.  The  accusa 
tions  were  briefly  these  : 

1.  "  That  they  would  not  take  the  oath  of  allegiance 
without  the  qualification  that  they  should  not  be  compelled 
to  bear  arms  ;  which  qualification,  although  it  had  been 
accepted  by  the  Governor,  Governor  Phipps,  was  disap 
proved  of  by  the  King." 

2.  "  That,  though  affecting  the  character  of  neutrals, 
tjiey  had   been  guilty  of  furnishing  the  French  and  In 
dians   with   intelligence,  quarter,  provisions,  and   assist- 
anpe,  in  annoying  the  government  of  the  province." 

3.  "  That  three  hundred  of  them   had   been   found  in 
arms  at  the  taking  of  Fort  Beau  Sejour." 

4.  "  That,  notwithstanding  an  offer   was  made  those 
who  had   never   been   openly  in   arms,  to   be  allowed  to 
continue  in  possession  of  their  land  if  they  would  take 
the  oath  of  allegiance  without  any  qualification  whatever, 
they  unanimously  refused." 

Historians  assert  that,  with  regard  to  the  second  accu 
sation,  there  might  have  been  individuals  who  violated 
their  neutrality  in  this  manner,  it  is  certain  the  great 
body  of  them  did  not. 

Among  the  colonial  authorities,  backed  by  instructions 
from  the  parent  government  in  England,  it  was  finally 
determined,  though  in  the  most  covert  and  secret  manner, 
to  remove  and  disperse  this  whole  people.  How  to  pro 
ceed,  was  at  first  a  great  difficulty.  It  was  argued, 
"  they  could  not  be  dealt  with  as  prisoners  of  war,  be 
cause  they  had  been  suffered  to  retain  their  possessions 
peaceably  for  half  a  century  ;  and  their  neutrality  (after 
they  had  refused  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  unreserv 
edly)  had  been  accepted  in  lieu  of  their  obedience." 
"  An  order  had  been  promulgated,  requiring  the  neutrals 
to  give  up  their  arms  and  all  their  boats,  so  as  to  be  una- 


56  INTRODUCTION. 

ble  to  aid  the  enemy  in  any  way."  This  oppressive  and 
unjust  edict,  which  was  calculated  and  probably  intended 
to  Ibrce  them  into  insurrection,  or  premature  and  overt 
acts  of  rebellion,  utterly  failed  of  that  effect,  and  left 
their  oppressors  no  shadow  of  pretext  for  annoying  them, 
for  cheerfully  and  unreservedly  did  this  innocent  and 
deceived  people  comply  with  the  requisition,  thinking  by 
their  ready  compliance  to  do  away  all  distrust ;  and  thus 
they  robbed  themselves  of  all  chance  for  defence  after 
wards,  had  they  been  so  inclined. 

So  far  from  ameliorating  their  fate,  their  submissions 
only  seemed  to  invite  further  oppression  :  and  whenever 
they  were  required  to  do  any  thing,  they  were  ordered  to 
it  in  the  most  offensive  and  domineering  manner  possible, 
usually  accompanied  with  shocking  threats  in  case  they 
should  refuse,  although  full  well  their  oppressors  knew 
that  they  would  not  refuse,  or  even  affect  reluctance. 
For  instance,  they  would  be  commanded  to  supply  a 
certain  detachment  of  English  soldiers  with  fuel,  and  told 
in  the  same  breath,  "  that  if  they  refused,  their  houses 
should  be  burned  for  fuel."  Again  :  "  To  bring  timber 
for  the  English  forts,  and  that  if  they  refused,  they  should 
suffer  military  execution." 

And  this  not  done  by  inferior  officers,  as  we  might  be 
led  to  suppose,  from  its  vulgarity  and  insolence,  but  by 
orders  of  the  Governor,  who,  in  his  letters  of  instruction 
to  Captain  Murray  to  this  effect,  says  :  "  You  are  not  to 
bargain  with  this  people  for  their  payment,  but  furnish 
them  with  certificates,  which  will  entitle  them  at  Halifax 
to  receive  such  payments  as  shall  be  thought  reasonable, 
and  assuring  them  if  they  do  not  immediately  comply,  the 
next  courier  will  bring  an  order  for  their  execution." 
Full  well  the  treacherous  Governor  knew,  that  no  com 
pensation  was  ever  intended  them,  and  that  at  the  moment 
the  bush  was  limed,  and  the  measures  concerted  to  hunt 
them  into  captivity,  after  these  forts  should  be  completed. 
It  can  scarcely  be  thought,  that  even  the  Acadians  them 
selves  expected  any  thing  *  but  they  cheerfully  complied, 
resolved  to  disarm  resentment  by  a  patient  compliance, 
and  continuance  in  well  doing. 

When  all  things  were  ripe  for  the  expulsion  of  these 
people  from  the  province  a  force  was  raised  in  New  Eng- 


INTRODUCTION.  57 

laud,  principally  for  this  object,  and  put  under  the  com 
mand  of  Colonel  John  Window,  of  Marshfield,  (Mass.) 
who  held  a  commission  of  major  general  in  the  militia, 
and  his  influence  was  so  great  as  to  effect  the  raising  of 
two  thousand  men  in  two  months  ;  they  embarked  on  the 
20th  of  May,  and  arrived  at  Annapolis  on  the  25th. 
Determining  upon  the  subjugation  of  the  whole  country 
in  the  first  place,  they  despatched  three  frigates  and  a 
sloop  up  the  Bay  of  Funday,  under  the  command  of  Cap 
tain  Rous,  to  give  them  assistance.  At  the  mouth  of  the 
river  Massagaush,  they  attacked  a  block-house,  defended 
by  some  French  from  Canada,  Indians,  and  a  few  rebel 
Acadians;  the  whole  number  was  only  four  hundred  and 
fifty.  These  were  dislodged  by  the  English,  who  pro 
ceeded  to  the  fort  before  mentioned,  at  Beau  Sejour, 
which  they  invested,  and,  after  four  days,  compelled  to 
surrender,  and  the  garrison  sent  to  Louisbourg,  which,  by 
the  last  treaty  of  peace,  had  once  more  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  French,  though  it  was  only  a  temporary 
possession.  From  thence  they  proceeded  up  the  river 
St.  Johns,  the  last  stronghold  of  the  French  (proper.) 
They  fled  at  the  approach  of  the  English. 

Thus  having  secured,  as  they  said,  the  peace  of  the 
colony,  by  completely  routing  all  the  French,  who,  since 
the  last  declaration  of  war  between  the  two  countries,  had 
been  gradually  encroaching  from  Canada  in  their  march 
southward,  and  who  doubtless  counted  upon  finally  rous 
ing  the  Neutral  French  to  join  them,  and  free  their  coun 
try  from- the  English  yoke,  they  might  be  supposed  to  be 
satisfied,  and  to  have  relented  of  the  cruel  policy  towards 
the  Neutrals.  But  it  was  not  so.  And  the  delay  which 
intervened  between  this  and  their  final  expulsion,  it  ap 
pears,  was  only  allowed  in  order  to  be  secure  of  the 
gathering  in  of  the  harvest,  which  they  were  determined 
this  deceived  people  should  do  for  them. 

Various  apologies  have  been  offered  for  Colonel  Wins- 
low  for  his  share  in  this  cruel  business,  and  to  wipe  from 
his  memory  the  stain  it  has  left.  It  has  been  argued, 
"  he  was  a  soldier,  and  bound  to  obey  orders  ;"  and  con 
tended  "  that  he  went  to  Nova  Scotia  assuming  the  com 
mand,  ignorant  of  the  service  required  of  him."  But  all 
these  apologies  are  insufficient  to  reconcile  us  to  his 


58  INTRODUCTION. 

character.  The  following  extract  from  Halliburton's 
History  of  Nova  Scotia  (vol.  i.  p.  175)  sets  the  matter  at 
rest  with  respect  to  the  part  Colonel  Winslow  took. 

"  At  a  consultation  held  between  Colonel  Vi  "mslow  and 
Captain  Murray,  it  was  agreed  that  a  proclamation  should 
be  issued  at  the  different  settlements,  requiring  the  atten 
dance  of  the  people  at  the  respective  posts  on  the  same 
day,  which  proclamation  should  be  so  ambiguous  in  its 
nature  that  the  object  for  which  they  were  to  assemble 
could  not  be  discovered,  and  so  peremptory  in  Its  terms  as 
to  insure  implicit  obedience.  This  instrument  being 
draughted  and  planned,  was  distributed  according  to  its 
original  plan."  Then  follows  the  proclamation.  Thus 
it  appears  he  was  not  only  an  actor,  but  one  who  assisted 
in  planning  and  contriving  this  piece  of  Machiavelism. 

To  avoid  repetition,  we  will  not  now  enlarge  upon  the 
manner  in  which  the  barbarous  measures  proposed  were 
carried  into  execution,  as  they  will  be  minutely  given  in 
the  story  forthcoming,  which  commences  precisely  at  this 
period.  If  the  reader  is  not  satisfied  with  our  description 
of  it,  he  will  please  read  Halliburton's  History  of  Nova 
Scotia,  in  \vhich  there  is  a  historical  account  of  these 
trunsactions,  with  many  very  just  remarks  upon  the  cru 
elty  of  an  enterprise  which  had  for  its  object  the  securing 
the  loyalty  of  a  people  by  destroying  them. 

The  barbarity  of  driving  out  an  innocent  and  unoffend 
ing  people,  with  fire  and  sword,  from  their  dearly-earned 
possessions,  and  scattering  them  among  a  strange  people, 
ignorant  of  their  manners,  language,  customs,  and  laws, 
refusing  them  the  privilege  of  seeking  their  own  nation 
and  religion,  can  never  be  expiated.  But  it  is  a  singular 
providence,  that  some  who  had  a  hand  in  these  transac- 
tions,  were,  in  their  turn,  twenty  years  after,  obliged  to 
flee.  Several  of  these,  it  is  said,  and  many  of  their  de 
scendants,  were  obliged  to  flee  and  seek  refuge  in  a 
country  from  which  the  persecuted  Acadians  were  ex 
pelled.  When  "  the  fullness  of  time  had  come,"  and 
the  measure  of  their  crimes,  committed  under  the  name 
of  loyalty,  was  full,  the  Lord  prepared  a  new  thing  under 
the  sun — a  people  who  should  dare  to  scoff  at  the  "  divine 
right  of  kings — to  set  both  despots  and  their  slaves  at 
defiance — to  burst  their  fetters  and  be  free — and  drive 


INTRODUCTION.  59 

out  those  who  had  driven  others.  And  it  is  worthy  of 
remark,  that  Colonel  Winslow's  family,  in  1775,  were 
among  the  tories  who  had  to  flee  to  Halifax. 

Colonel  Winslow,  in  the  history  of  his  achievements, 
is  mentioned  as  "  the  descendant  of  an  ancient  and  hon 
orable  family,"  which  is  true,  as  he  was  the  direct  de 
scendant  of  one  of  the  honorable  family  of  the  Pilgrims, 
who,  a  little  more  than  a  century  before,  had  left  the 
shores  of  Great  Britain  to  seejt  an  asylum  from  persecu 
tion  and  religious  intolerance.  For  several  generations 
certainly,  and  we  are  not  certain  but  from  the  first  settle 
ment  of  that  part  of  the  country,  the  Winslows  had 
established  their  family  residence  at  Marshfield,  (Mass.) 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Plymouth.  It  is  called  "  Caswell 
Farm."  The  house  is  still  standing,  and  was  evidently 
built  in  imitation  of  the  ancient  family  mansions  in  Great 
Britain,  as  there  is  an  air  of  coldness  and  stateliness 
about  it  entirely  different  from  that  appearance  of  snug- 
ness  and  comfort  which  distinguish  the  more  modern 
style  of  building,  and  one  would  suppose  indispensable  to 
that  cold  region. 

The  portrait  of  the  last  Colonel  Winslow,  until  within 
a  short  time,  was  still  to  be  seen  there,  and  reminded  of 
those  words  of  Halleck — 

"  Still  sternly  o'er  the  castle-gate, 
Their  house's  lion  frowned  in  state." 

It  has  recently,  however,  been  removed  to  the  rooms  of 
the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society,  in  Tremont  street, 
Boston  ;  and  a  curious  contrast  is  exhibited  between  the 
countenance  of  the  Colonel,  with  his  light  complexion 
and  perpetual  smile,  and  the  dark  and  monkish  looks  of 
his  progenitors,  the  two  Governor  Hutchirrsons,  the  one 
his  grandfather,  the  other  his  greatgrandfather.  They 
were,  it  appears,  a  very  aristocratic  family,  and  thought 
much  of  good  blood.  Colonel  Winslow  married  a  lady 
who  was  niece  to  the  Duke  of  New  Castle,  the  Lady 
Arabella  Pelham,  and,  report  says,  affected  a  style  far 
above  his  income,  by  which  he  involved  the  ancestral 
estate  so  deeply  that,  in  the  next  generation,  it  passed 
from  the  family.  It  has  since,  however,  been  repurchased 
by  a  branch  of  the  family. 


60  INTRODUCTION. 

The  portraits  of  the  Winslow  family,  together  with 
some  of  the  Hutchinsons,  and  others,  now  occupying  the 
walls  of  the  Historical  Society's  rooms  at  Boston,  suggest 
a  curious  inquiry.  Whether  they  assumed  these  stern 
looks  to  awe  the  vulgar,  upon  being  appointed  to  lord  it 
over  this  new  world,  or  whether  they  were  by  nature  so 
repulsive,  is  a  problem  which  we  cannot  solve  at  this  day. 
But  certain  it  is,  that  the  grim  visages  of  the  colonial 
governors  and  other  early  officers  of  the  colonies,  as 
exhibited  in  their  portraits,  is  as  different  from  the  broad, 
rubicund  faces  and  merry  looks  of  the  present  race  of 
Englishmen  as  possible.  The  portrait  of  Colonel  John 
Winslow  represents  an  Englishman  of  the  present  time, 
with  a  full  face  and  chest,  and  that  kind  of  smile  about 
the  rnouth  vulgarly  denominated  smirking,  together  with 
the  blue  eyes  and  fair  complexion  of  the  Anglo-Saxon. 
We  must  say  we  were  perfectly  disappointed  in  tin 
appearance  of  this  redoubtable  commander,  who  drove 
unarmed  men,  women,  and  children,  and  also  "  much 
cattle'1  before  him,  at  the  expulsion  of  the  Neutrals  from 
Nova  Scotia.  The  lowering  looks  of  some  of  his  prede 
cessors  would  have  better  suited  the  character  of  that 
transaction.  However,  an  habitual  smile  is  no  proof  of 
real  good  nature  or  good  principles,  since  the  greatest  and 
deepest  villains  have  often  assumed  it  to  conceal  the 
wickedness  and  cruelty  of  their  tempers  ;  and  there  have 
been  persons  "  who  could  smile,  and  murder  while  they 
smiled."  It  is  not  prejudice,  but  the  face  is  far  from 
being  an  intellectual  one,  since  it  rather  indicates  cunning 
than  wisdom.  Colonel  Winslow  lived  to  the  advanced 
age  of  severity-three,  and  died  in  1773;  consequently  he 
must  have  been  fifty-five  at  the  time  of  his  exploits  in 
Nova  Scotia. 

Providence  seems  to  have  punished  this  commander  in  a 
measure  at  the  time,  as  his  last  days  in  Halifax — for  he  did 
not  come  off  with  the  Neutrals  himself — were  embittered 
by  the  conduct  of  the  English  authorities  in  that  region. 
They  made  no  scruple,  it  appears  from  his  journal,  to 
transfer  soldiers  in  his  regiment  of  New  England  troops 
to  the  Halifax  regiments  ;  an  unlawful  thing,  and  which 
he  remonstrated  against  to  the  Governor  and  commanding 
officer  on  the  station  without  erl'ect,  his  representations 


INTRODUCTION.  61 

being  treated  with  cool  contempt  by  those  with  whom  he 
had  plotted  and  acted  so  little  time  before.  In  his  journal 
(now  in  possession  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Soci 
ety)  he  pronounces  their  conduct  '•  contrary  to  the  rules 
of  war,'"'  and  prophesies  "  it  will  be  the  last  New  England 
force  ever  inarched  into  Nova  Scotia  to  defend  their 
rights." 

Besides  these  and  other  abuses,  it  appears  there  was  a 
continual  covert  attack  upon  the  character  of  the  New 
England  troops,  very  galling  to  the  feelings  of  Colonel 
Winslow,  who  felt  that  the  mother  country  was  entirely 
indebted  to  the  New 'England  forces  for  all  their  con 
quests  in  this  quarter  of  the  globe.  We  were  much 
amused  by  the  complaints  of  the  soldiers  on  this  head, 
and  particularly  one  John  Rouse,  who  writes  of  the 
bragging  of  the  Halifax  troops  over  the  New  England 
ones,  and  hopes  to  "  live  to  see  them  paid/'  and  that 
"  the  time  might  come  when  they  should  be  convinced 
the  New  England  troops  would  not  turn  their  backs  to 
them"! 

When  the  New  England  troops  were  enlisted  to  go  to 
Nova  Scotia,  they  were  told  "  they  were  going  to  assist 
in  removing  the  encroachments  of  the  French  in  Nova 
Scotia."  What  was  understood  by  the  ambiguous  state 
ment,  does  not  appear.  But  tradition  says  many  did  not 
even  know  the  place  of  their  destination  previous  to  their 
embarcation,  and  believed  it  to  be  Canada.  Colonel 
Winslow  himself,  doubtless,  was  in  their  counsels,  and 
would  not  engage  in  the  undertaking  without  his  reward 
being  paid  beforehand.  Eight  hundred  pounds  was  the 
price  of  hunting  eighteen  thousand  people  into  captivity. 
Alas  !  perhaps  the  price  of  his  soul.  It  does  not  appear 
on  any  record,  that  the  cruel  methods  used  to  transport 
the  seven  thousand  Neutrals  brought  away  at  that  time 
by  direction  of  Winslow,  were  devised  by  any  but  him 
self.  His  putting  males  in  one  set  of  transports,  and 
females  and  children  packed  into  others,  as  though  pur 
posely  to  separate  families,  appears  his  own  work,  as  well 
as  their  barbarous  exposure  on  the  shore,  &c. 

Nova  Scotia  was,  during  the  Revolution,  the  stronghold 
of  the  tories  ;  and  to  it  many  were  obliged  to  flee,  who  saw 
not  their  families  for  years,  and  some  of  them  never  met 
6 


62  INTRODUCTION. 

again.  Many  of  their  descendants  still  live  in  that  region, 
too  happy  in  being  permitted  to  till  the  soil  and  enjoy 
the  produce  which  of  right  belonged  to  the  banished 
Acadians,  the  hapless  exiles  of  Nova  Scotia. 

It  was  long  after  that  the  country,  left  smoking  in 
ruins,  regained  its  beauty  and  fertility.  Five  years  after, 
a  small  colony  from  Connecticut  was  persuaded  by  the 
colonial  authorities  to  emigrate  there,  and  they  described 
it  in  such  a  garb  as  would  have  drawn  tears  from  the 
eyes  of  any  one  not  completely  hardened.  The  ground 
was  at  that  time  whitened  with  the  bones  of  the  famished 
flocks  and  herds  of  the  Neutrals — the  blackened  ruins  of 
their  habitations  were  still  staring  them  in  the  face  on 
every  hand — and  even  the  ruins  of  the  carts  and  other 
conveyances,  that  carried  the  few  goods  they  were  per 
mitted  to  take,  were  mouldering  on  the  shores.  But  the 
most  moving  spectacle  was  some  human  beings  who  had 
been  hid  in  the  woods,  and  had  not  tasted  bread  for  five 
years.  In  the  famished  and  forlorn  condition  they  were 
in,  it  was  with  difficulty  they  could  be  lured  from  their 
dismal  retreat.  But  at  length  the  gentle  manners  of  the 
new  settlers  prevailed  against  the  overwhelming  fear  they 
had  of  the  English. 

At  the  period  of  the  Revolution,  that  country  still  wore 
an  air  of  desolation.  Several  persons  from  our  own  part 
of  the  world  (Rhode  Island)  went,  and  some  returned 
after  the  war  of  the  Revolution.  Of  these  we  have  a 
distinct  recollection  of  one,  Mr.  William  Richmond,  who 
gave  a  very  interesting  though  mournful  description  of 
the  remains  of  the  Neutral  French.  "  Some  of  the  re 
mains  of  those  ruined  dikes,  erected  by  the  industry  and 
ingenuity  of  that  people,  were  still  visible  in  their  dilapi 
dated  state,  that  he  stated  to  have  been  forty-five  feet  in 
height,  and  of  great  thickness.  His  sympathies  for  that 
exiled  race  were  very  much  excited,  and  he  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  say,  upon  investigating  the  causes  of  their  expul 
sion,  that  he  believed  it  to  have  been  caused  by  avarice 
alone  ;  and  that  they  were  indebted  to  the  plotting  of  the 
colonial  governments,  who  coveted  their  lands,  more  than 
to  any  danger  that  menaced  the  state  through  their  resi 
dence."  * 

*  As  the  gentleman,  whose  authority  is  here  cited  in  behalf  of 


INTRODUCTION.  63 

Of  the  final  success,  in  the  attempt  to  incorporate  the 
Neutrals  with  the  people  of  the  different  provinces,  whither 


the  Neutrals,  was  one  of  the  few  who  left  the  United  States  at  the 
commencement  of  the  Revolution,  and  afterwards  returned  to  it, 
it  very  naturally  excited  our  curiosity  to  hear  his  story,  and  be 
able  to  account  for  the  desertion  of  our  country  in  her  hour  of 
peril,  by  one  who  subsequently  deported  himself  as  a  good  citizen, 
and  held,  for  many  years,  offices  of  trust  and  importance  in  the 
State.  The  following  authentic  particulars  will  not  be  unaccepta 
ble  to  those  who  knew  him,  of  whom  many  remain  until  this  day. 

WILLIAM  RICHMOND  was  born  at  Providence  (R.  I.)  in  1744, 
and  was  descended  from  the  Richmonds  of  Wiltshire,  (England,) 
who  settled  at  Sagonet,  now  Little  Compton,  (H.  I.)  in  1675.  He 
early  in  life  embraced  the  principles  of  the  Glassites,  or  Sandamin- 
ians,  a  sect  who,  about  the  middle  of  the  -eighteenth  century, 
separated  from  the  Scotch  national  church  on  various  points  of 
discipline  and  doctrine. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  Revolution,  he  was  living  at  Dan- 
bury,  (Conn.)  whither  he  had  resorted  for  the  purpose  of  living  in 
communion  with  a  numerous  congregation  of  the  same  sect,  there 
formed  into  church  order. 

There  were  two  points  on  which  the  members  of  this  church — 
although  they  disputed  the  monstrous  claim  of  parliamentary  su 
premacy  over  the  colonies — declined  to  bear  arms  against  the 
mother  country.  In  the  first  place,  they  were  non-resistants,  as 
the  Quakers  ;  and.  secondly,  they  professed  to  have  conscientious 
scruples  respecting  the  oath  of  allegiance  which  they  had  taken 
without  equivocation,  and  with  an  express  disavowal  of  all  mental 
reservation.  The  taxes  assessed  on  them  for  the  support  of  the 
dominant  sect  in  Connecticut,  they  had  paid  without  any  evasion, 
and  in  fact  they  paid  t/ie  war-taxes  as  long  as  they  lived  there, 
but  they  did  not  believe  that  any  government  could  absolve  them 
from  their  oath.  But  as  they  were  equally  reluctant  to  take  up 
arms  in  support  of  British  usurpation,  the  government  of  Connec 
ticut  was  disposed  to  protect  them. 

It  was  soon  perceived  this  state  of  things  could  not  continue. 
The  multitude  could  not  distinguish  between  their  forbearance  as 
a  mailer  of  conscience,  and  the  manoeuvreing  and  plotting  of  the 
treacherous  tories.  And  the  consequence  was,  that  their  situation 
soon  became  very  uncomfortable,  and  from  time  to  time  they  were 
exceedingly  annoyed,  and  found  themselves  often  exposed  to  popular 
violence.  The  fact  was,  the  State  government  was  not  sufficiently 
established  to  protect  them  from  violence. 

The  government  of  Connecticut  seemed  to  compassionate  the 
situation  of  these  people,  and  finally  advised  them  to  remove  to 
Long  Island,  then  in  possession  of  the  British.  With  this  recom 
mendation  they  complied,  and  were  furnished  with  a  passport  and 
certificate  of  their  peaceable,  moral,  and  religious  character.  Mr. 
Richmond  took  a  farm  on  Long  Island,  where  he  remained  until 


64 


INTRODUCTION. 


they  were  banished,  we  can   say  but  little.     They,  on 
their  arrival,  were  generally  conducted  to  the  poor-houses, 


the  evacuation  of  the  British.  Apprehensive  of  a  recurrence  of 
the  scenes  which  had  formerly  been  so  annoying,  and  feeling  that 
the  citizens  would  not  regard  him  in  the  light  in  which  he  wished 
to  be  viewed,  Mr.  Richmond,  with  his  party,  emigrated  to  Nova 
Scotia,  and  settled  for  the  time  at  Selkirk.  Mr.  Richmond  accept 
ed  an  employment  in  the  civil  engineering  department  of  Nova 
Scotia,  where  he  was  employed  some  years  in  laying  out  roads,  &c. 
It  was  here  that  he  became  acquainted  with  the  history  of  that 
persecuted  race,  whose  interesting  remains  met  the  eye  on  every 
side,  and  told  a  tale  of  woe,  one  would  suppose,  peculiarly  exciting 
to  all  who  would  be  neutrals  on  British  ground.  Whether  it  hail 
any  effect  on  the  mind  of  Mr.  Richmond,  or  whether  the  endearing 
recollections  of  his  native  place  and  kindred  alone  drew  him  back, 
we  cannot  say.  But  he  returned,  and  finding  the  leading  men  of 
his  native  town  much  more  tolerant  and  liberal,  respecting  his 
principles  and  conduct,  than  he  had  expected  to  find  them,  he 
gladly  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  to  settle  in  Providence, 
and  went  no  more.  Soon  after,  being  a  widower,  he  married  a 
daughter  of  the  Rev.  Russell  Mason,  of  Swanzey,  (Mass.)  in 
whose  society  he  passed  the  remainder  of  his  days.  Mr.  Richmond 
held  several  offices  of  trust,  some  of  which  were  the  gift  of  the 
Legislature. 

It  was  not  without  a  struggle,  however,  that  he  was  elecic •!,  llie 
opposing  party  contending  that  "he  had  forfeited  the  right  of 
citizenship ;  and,  besides,  wa's  not  to  be  ranked  with  those  who  had 
borne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day."  Others  contended,  that 
he  having  acted  altogether  from  a  scruple  of  conscience,  his  with 
drawal  was  not  to  be  ascribed  to  malignant  feelings  against  the 
new  government,  particularly  as  he  had  taken  no  part  with  the 
enemies  of  the  country,  uniformly  refusing  to  bear  arms  on  either 
side.  That  he  had  given  strong  proofs  of  attachment  by  return 
ing  to  the  country,  when  his  services  might  have  been  well  remu 
nerated  where  he  was.  And  "  besides" — and  the  most  powerful 
argument  after  all — "  the  talents  of  Mr.  Richmond  peculiarly 
qualified  him  for  public  business,  and  it  was  the  interest  of  the 
State  to  appropriate  them."  However,  the  objection  of  forfeiting 
his  right,  &c.,  was  so  frequently  brought  up,  that  he  found  it 
necessary  to  appeal  to  the  General  Assembly  of  the  State,  and,  by 
the  recommendation  of  Arthur  Fenner,  then  Governor  of  the 
Stale,  an  act  was  immediately  passed  exonerating  him  from  blame, 
and  declaring  him  "  entitled  to  all  the  rights  and  privileges  of 
citizenship." 

Among  the  congregation  who  went  to  Long  Island  on  the  occa 
sion  above  alluded  to,  were  two  eminent  lawyers,  Messrs.  Hum 
phrey  and  Barrell.  These  gentlemen,  wi!,h  a  full  knowledge  of 
their  opinions  and  conduct  during  the  Revolution,  were  repeatedly 
appointed  to  office  by  Washington,  Adams,  and  Jefferson.  (We 


INTRODUCTION.  65 

as  they  almost  uniformly  refused  to  work,  alleging  "  they 
were  prisoners  of  war."  From  thence  they  were  dispers 
ed  through  the  different  towns  of  those  provinces,  in 
order  that  each  town  might  thus  render  its  proportion 
toward  the  expense  of  supporting  them,  a  debt  which  it 
seems  the  States  were  saddled  with. 

The  Count  D'Estaing,  when  Governor  of  Hispaniola, 
commisserated  their  case,  and  invited  them  there,  allot 
ting  a  particular  district  to  their  use.  A  considerable 
colony  emigrated  there ;  but  the  climate  was  so  different 
to  any  thing  they  had  been  accustomed  to,  that  a  pesti 
lence  broke  out  among  them,  even  before  they  could 
prepare  themselves  habitations,  and  they  miserably  per 
ished,  except  about  two  hundred  of  them,  who  left  the 
island  for  a  milder  climate. 

When  the  Count,  hearing  of  their  shocking  mortality, 
went  out  to  see  them,  he  found  them  in  the  most  pitiable 
plight,  crawling  under  the  bushes,  &c.  to  screen  them 
selves  from  the  rays  of  a  torrid  sun,  and  laying  down  to 
die.  Of  the  number  who  straggled  back,  some  encamped 
in  the  wilderness,  but  it  is  believed  many  perished  from 
hardship  and  exposure  in  the  attempt.  (The  settlement 
of  the  Madawaska,  by  their  o\vn  traditions,  appears  to 
have  been  first  made  by  the  Neutral  French.  Doctor 
Jackson,  in  his  "  Geology  of  Maine,"  speaks  of  its  being 
peopled  by  their  descendants,  notwithstanding  the  state 
ment  of  "  Pierre  Lazotte,"  that  they  found  none  there 


do  not  record  it,  however,  to  recommend  the  precedent.)  Mr. 
Humphrey  was  appointed  by  the  latter  district  attorney  of  New 
Hampshire,  in  1801,  which  office  he  continued  to  hold,  under  sub 
sequent  administrations,  until  his  death,  two  or  three  years  since. 
Mr.  Barrell  was  consul  abroad,  as  also  his  son,  who  died  in  Spain 
in  1838.  It  is  not  known  that  in  any  of  the  States,  the  act  of 
attainder,  confiscation,  or  other  disqualification  was  passed  against 
a  member  of  this  sect  of  Christians,  for  their  opinions  and  conduct 
during  the  Revolution. 

In  the  case  of  Mr.  Richmond,  every  worldly  motive  was  against 
him.  His  father,  brother,  uncles,  and  brother-in-law,  were  all 
revolutionary  men.  Three  of  them  held  commissions  in  the  Amer 
ican  army,  and  another  was  a  surgeon,  to  all  of  whom  he  was 
sincerely  attached,  and  beloved  by  them.  It  was  his  happy  privi 
lege,  while  on  Long  Island,  to  be  of  essential  service  to  a  number 
of  our  citizens  confined  on  board  the  «'  Jersey." 

6* 


66  INTRODUCTION. 

but  Indians.)  This  unfortunate  people  had  no  other 
friends,  and  in  almost  all  their  gradations  in  these  re 
gions,  exhibit  more  or  less  of  Indian  blood. 

We  have  stated  that 'in  the  recent  difficulties  with 
the  English,  respecting  our  boundary,  the  inhabitants 
of  that  region  feeling  themselves  the  citizens  of  a  free 
government,  and  belonging  to  the  State  of  Maine,  called 
a  town  meeting  to  deliberate  upon  the  measures  they 
should  pursue  in  case  of  hostilities — when  the  "  ringlead 
ers,"  as  they  were  termed,  the  most  considerable  men  in 
the  settlement,  were  seized  by  the  British  authorities  in 
New  Brunswick,  and  incarcerated  in  Frederickton  jail ; 
several,  it  is  reported,  sent  to  England  for  trial.  Most 
of  them,  at  this  day,  wait  only  to  know  how  the  final 
settlement  of  the  boundary  question  will  eventuate,  pre 
pared,  should  the  Americans  in  any  case,  loose  it  to 
the  British  government,  to  emigrate  to  our  western  States. 
Eleven  families,  some  of  the  most  considerable  among 
them,  removed  there  in  the  first  of  the  difficulties. 

Some  families  of  Acadians  actually  straggled  back  to 
their  former  homes,  and  their  descendants  still  live  in 
those  regions,  not  only  without  persecution,  but  almost 
reverenced.  They  are  still  an  innocent  and  exemplary 
people.  In  fact,  the  English  in  that  region,  at  the  present 
day,  are  very  much  ashamed  of  these  transactions,  though 
like  all  their  regrets,  it  has  -not  produced  a  restitution  of 
the  spoils.  They  seem  to  have  that  kind  of  feeling  to 
wards  them,  that  they  might  be  supposed  to  in  England, 
should  a  little  colony  of  the  ancient  Druids  suddenly 
appear  among  them.  The  feeling  that  we  probably  shall 
have,  when  a  little  handful  of  the  sons  of  the  forest  will 
be  all  that  remains  of  our  once  powerful  tribes,  with  the 
exception  that  the  one  has  been  distinguished  by  their 
fierceness  and  valor,  and  the  other  by  their  innocence  and 
inoffensiveness. 

We  have  been  at  some  pains  to  possess  ourselves  of  the 
names  of  families  among  the  Neutrals  brought  to  the 
United  States,  &c.,  in  order  to  elicit  information  from  the 
different  places  "  whither  they  have  been  carried  captive," 
and  the  following  is  the  information  we  have  been  able 
to  obtain  on  the  subject.  We  will  not  say  all,  for  the 
subject  widens  as  we  approach  it.  From  the  list  of  names 


INTRODUCTION. 


6? 


given  by  Colonel  Winslow  of  the  inhabitants  of  Grand 
Pree,  Minas,  Canard,  and  places  adjacent,  we  take  the 
entire  family  names,  premising  there  were  two  thousand 
of  these  names,  some  of  them  numbering  twenty  or  thirty 
families.  It  will  be  remembered  there  were  five  thousand 
others,  whose  names  we  cannot  now  obtain,  other  than 
as  they  occasionally  appear  in  the  petitions  which  were 
continually  coming  in  to  the  Governor  (Shirley)  and 
Council  of  Massachusetts,  and  to  the  Governors  of  other 
States  where  they  were  carried. 

List  of  inhabitants  of  Grand  Pree,  fyc. 


Jean  Desigree  and  family. 

Alex'r  Landry  " 

Antoine  Vincon  " 

Pierre  Landry  " 

Batista  Lapin  <c 

Claude  Ferrick  " 

Lupriere  Ferriot  " 

Basil  Richard  " 

Charles  Apigne  " 

Jean  Le  Prine  " 

German  Libando  " 

Alexis  Hebert  " 

Jaques  Ferriot  " 

Saul  Bugeaub  " 

Alex'r  Mel  an  son  " 

Amcoine  " 

Dagre  " 

Fernot  " 

Ferriot  " 

Leblane       .  " 

Granger,  20  families. 

Aincena  and  families. 

Boudro 

Melanson 

Fenanbar 

Lemron 

- Petree 

Duor 

Amoine 

Series 


Vastache  Commo  and  family 
Piero  Traham 
Claude  Majch 
Paule  Capierere 
Jacques  Bellamaine 
Dominique  Gostre 
Oliver  Belfontaine 
Michette  Loverne 
Comero  Brussaud 
Dominique  Pitre 
Ettienee  Boudra 
Charles  Ancoine 
Basil  Commo 
Norier  Libare 

Melanson 

Cleland 

Libar 

Sosonier 

Libkie 

Brune 

Benois 

Clemenson 

Noails 

Goitre 

David 

Bubin 

Alanier 

Cloatre 

Forrest 

Leuron 


68  INTRODUCTION. 


Celestin  and  families.    Dins   and  families. 

He  berk  "  Masses  " 

Bossin  "  Labous* 

Blanchard  "  Le  Blons* 

Doulet  "  Massier*          " 

Leprine  "  duet*  " 

Menjeans  "  Losler*  " 

Douert  "  Infirms*  " 

Tibodo  "   •         Le  Sour* 

Koury  "  Chelle* 

Bourg  "  Masseir*          " 

Carretter  " 


The  usual  Christian  names  of  these  last  were  Charlesr 
Joseph,  Claude,  Pierre,  and  Batista,  with  a  few  of  Alex 
ander,  Paul,  Simon,  Germain,  Michael,  Jaques,  Benois, 
and  Antoine. 

It  appears — arid  it  is  a  circumstance  we  were  not  aware 
of  when  we  commenced  writing  this  work — that  vessels 
continued  to  arrive  at  Boston  with  Acadians,  at  different 
times,  after  the  first,  until  the  Governor  and  Council,  by 
remonstrance,  put  a  stop  to  it.  And  it  .is  mentioned  par 
ticularly,  that  when  the  party  from  the  southern  States 
was  stopped  at  Boston,  on  their  way  back  to  Nova  Scotia, 
that  "  five  husbands,  who  had  wives  at  Boston,  requested 
to  come  on  shore  to  their  families,  and  others  also  who  had 
relatives,  and  were  permitted."  Subsequently  all  stopped 
there,  and  were  distributed  to  the  different  towns.  We 
grieve  to  say  it  was  but  too  evident  these  unhappy  people 
suffered  much  from  poverty  and  ill  treatment  even  after 
their  adoption  by  Massachusetts.  The  different  petitions 
forwarded  to  Governor  Shirley  at  this  time  are  heart 
rending.  The  writer  of  thia  attempted  to  copy  some  of 
them  from  the  archives  in  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of 
State,  but  was  so  blinded  by  tears  as  to  render  it  impossi 
ble.  Somes  of  the  names  were  as  follow  :  Dupais,  Belli- 
veaux,  Bourgeois,  Amiraux,  Dantreinone,  Boudrat,  Du- 
har,  Bro,  Gourdeaux,  De  Mathieu,  Meuse,  Nigerant, 


*  Of  these,  there  were  at  least  fifty  families  sometimes  bearing 
one  name.  Here  are  only  eighty-two  names  among  two  thousand 
people  ! 


INTRODUCTION.  69 

Frater,  Geriore,  Liour,  Kabir,  Gentle,  Remon,  Benois, 
Veuiel,  Michael,  Robiehaux,  Brun,  Doucet,  Claremont, 
and  Charree.  These  all  signed  a  petition,  with  eight 
hundred  persons,  after  Canada  was  ceded  to  the  British, 
to  go  there  ;  and  Murray,  the  first  English  Governor  of 
that  province,  refused  to  let  them  come,  "  unless  the  State 
of  Massachusetts  would  find  them  one  year's  provision 
after  their  arrival."  We  could  find  no  grant  of  this  kind, 
but  from  time  to  time  vessels  loaded  with  these  families 
were  despatched  to  Canada.  How  many  finally  went,  we 
have  now  no  means  of  ascertaining. 

We  can  find  no  apology  for  the  treatment  of  too  many 
of  these  people  upon  their  first  coming  into  New  Eng 
land,  but  by  saying,  as  an  old  revolutionary  soldier  did, 
"  it  was  during  the  dark  days  of  monarchical  despotism." 
It  was  certainly  a  time  when,  by  the  influence  of  England, 
every  thing  French  had  become  hateful  and  suspected. 
We  observed  a  petition  from  one  town  on  the  coast,  to 
have  the  "  Neutrals  removed  to  the  interior,  as  they  had 
a  powder-house  there,  and  was  afraid  they  would  blow 
them  up."  *  The  Neutrals,  after  being  distributed  to  the 


*  We  beg  pardon  for  introducing  any  thing  in  which  ourselves 
are  concerned,  but  we  cannot  resist  the  inclination  to  relate  an 
anecdote  of  our  own  foolish  fears,  upon  encountering1  some  of  these 
people.  In  the  summer  of  1839,  while  travelling  near  the  "  disputed 
territory,"  at  the  close  of  a  cool,  raw  day  we  stopped  for  shelter 
at  a  small  house  on  the  banks  of  the  St.  Johns.  The  building 
wore  a  dilapidated  aspect,  from  the  effects  of  a  recent  hail  storm, 
which  had  broken  all  the  windows  on  the  road  side  of  the  house, 
and  the  best  room,  which  contained  a  bed,  being  on  that  side, 
afforded  rather  uncomfortable  quarters.  It  was,  however,  the  only 
place  to  sit  down  in,  and  as  there  was  no  other  house  for  many  a 
weary  mile,  it  was  necessary  to  make  the  best  of  it.  The  woman 
of  the  house,  a  singular  looking  being  enough,  said  "  the  lady  could 
have  that  for  a  lodging-room,  and  the  gentleman  with  her  must 
take  up  with  a  place  in  the  loft,  or  lay  somewhere  on  the  floor  as 
the  other  lodgers  did."  We  asked  who  were  the  other  lodgers  ? 
"  Raltsmen,"  she  said,  "  bringing  timber  down  the  river."  Upon 
looking  out,  we  discovered  not  only  several  rafts  moored  at  the 
foot  of  the  bank,  but  numerous  others  making  for  the  same  harbor. 
And  in  this  wildest  looking  region,  with  a  stormy  night  in  prospect, 
(for  it  had  now  commenced  raining,)  with  only  one  female  beside 
myself,  and  twenty  or  thirty  perhaps  of  the  roughest  and  darkest 
looking  men,  I  had  to  pass  the  night.  The  gentleman  with  me, 
the  surgeon  and  physician  at  Fort  Fairneld,  had  a  considerable 


70 


INTRODUCTION. 


different  towns,  no  longer  refused  to  work,  but  were  often 
cheated  out  of  their  wages,  suffering  every  privation  be 
sides.  They  must  have  found  some  friends,  however,  as 
many  of  the  petitions  of  those  who  could  not  write  are 
written  with  great  feeling. 

One  of  this  description  from  Plymouth,  struck  us  as 
very  appropriate.  It  represented  the  situation  of  a  dis 
tressed  couple,  whose  son,  a  boy,  had  been  dragged  off  to 


sum  of  government  money  with  him,  which  he  was  transporting 
from  the  interior  to  that  outpost,  and  did  not  feel  over  comfortable 
more  than  myself,  although  he  was  well  armed.  It  was  in  vain 
that  we  attempted  to  ascertain  whether  the  lodgers  were  dangerous 
characters,  from  their  conversation,  as  so  many  were  talking 
French  at  once.  How  to  dispose  of  ourselves  for  the  night  was  a 
question.  The  landlady  offered  to  sleep  with  rue,  hut.  this  I  de 
clined,  being  as  much  afraid  of  her  as  the  "whole  twenty  men. 
Then  she  would  bring  her  own  bed  inside,  and  iet  the  Doctor  sleep 
on  it.  That  would  riot  do.  The  poor  woman  was  in  great  per 
plexity — "what  was  I  afraid  of?  "  "  Why — why — of  the  broken 
windows,  any  one  coming  along  the  road  might  step  in,"  I  said. 
My  companion  reminded  me  of  my  courage  in  passing  one  place 
where  there  were  seventeen  miles  between  oilman  habitations,  and 
when  in  riding  along  he  descried  two  savage  looking  figures,  lie 
asked,  with  seeming  alarm,  "  if  they  should  prove  robbers,  and 
both  attack  him  at  once,  had  he  not  better  give  up  the  money 
without  resistance,  as  he  could  not  manage  two  at  a  time  ;"  and  I 
told  him  to  give  me  one  of  the  pistols,  and  I  would  manage  one 
while  he  did  the  other,  though  the  harmless  woodmen  did  not  give 
us  the  opportunity.  But  rallying  was  vain.  I  however  suffered 
the  landlady  to  conduct  him  to  a  place  to  sleep,  and  after  nailing 
my  shawl  and  cloak  over  the  broken  windows,  and  driving  a  nail 
over  the  doorlatch,  retired  to  her  red-curtained  bed  to  sleep.  Fear, 
which  sometimes  operates  as  a  sedative,  caused  me  to  sleep  soundly, 
and  when  I  awoke,  the  rafts  and  the  lodgers  had  quietly  disappear 
ed,  and  I  discovered  a  door  behind  the  curtain  of  the  bed  upon  the 
latch,  which,  had  any  one  been  disposed  to  have  entered,  there  was 
nothing  to  prevent.  Had  I  known  at  the  time  that  these  raftsmen 
were  some  of  the  harmless  Neutrals,  I  could  have  had  no  fears.  An 
.English  gentleman  of  high  standing,  who  employed  a  great  number 
cf  them  in  his  mills,  told  me  that  "  they,  as  weU  as  the  Canadians, 
were  the  most  perfectly  innocent  and  upright  people  by  nature, 
and  always  remained  so,  unless*,  they  became  acquainted  with  the 
English  language  ;  and  that  the' first  thing  he  inquired,  when  em 
ploying  them,  was,  "  Did  they  understand  English  ?"  If  they  did, 
they  were  dismissed  at  once.  Certainly,  this  fact  speaks  volumes. 
It  can  only  be  accounted  for  by  the  old  maxim,  that  "  Evil  com 
munications  corrupt  good  manners-" 


INTRODUCTION.  71 

sea  by  an  unfeeling  captain  from  Plymouth,  and  the  pa 
rents,  upon  remonstrating,  were  cruelly  beaten.  Another 
from  a  neighboring  town,  represented  a  scene  of  suffering 
and  starvation  almost  incredible  in  a  land  of  plenty  ;  and 
the  two  grown-up  sons  refused  their  wages,  which  amount 
ed  to  fifteen  joes,  being  barbarously  beaten  when  they 
called  for  them,  and  one  of  them  had  his  eye  put  out  in 
the  contest.  It  is  due  to  the  government  of  Massachu 
setts  to  say,  that  they  immediately  sent  a  committee  of 
investigation,  and  enacted  severe  laws  against  all  such  as 
should  defraud  these  persecuted  people. 

It  is  well  known,  even  to  this  day,  that  there  is  noth 
ing  in  country  towns  regarded  with  so  much  abhorrence 
as  paupers.  It  really  does  seem  as  though  every  mouthful 
of  food  and  article  of  clothing  is  yielded  with  more  than 
churlish  reluctance.  While  towns  are  permitted,  without 
murmuring,  to  expend  immense  sums  in  unnecessarily 
expensive  public  buildings,  and  improvements  around  rich 
men's  estates,  the  least  sum  devoted  to  ameliorating  the 
condition  of  the  starving  poor,  is  regarded  as  an  unneces- 
rary  tax. 

A  large  family  of  these  Neutrals,  sent 'to  Wilmington, 
(Mass.)  represent  that  they  were  placed  in  a  ruined  house, 
without  doors  or  windows,  in  an  inclement  seasori  of  the 
year  ;  the  mother  of  the  family,  who  was  sick,  had  to 
have  her  bed  moved  to  the  leeward  every  time  it  rained. 
They  had  no  fuel,  and  were  denied  oxen  to  get  any,  and 
not  allowed  to  go  and  back  it  from  the  woods.  A  very 
little  of  rations  was  given,  and  they  were  told  to  earn  the 
rest.  Upon  the  man's  complaining  of  the  water  coming 
over  his  floor,  "  and  every  thing  afloat,"  he  was  told  "  to 
build  a  boat,  then,  and  sail  about  in  it."  TJiey  were  not 
permitted  to  stroll  from  town  to  town.  If  taken  without 
a  passport  from  two  selectmen,  they  were  to  be  imprisoned 
five  days,  or  whipped  ten  lashes,  or  sometimes  both.  By 
this  means,  families  were  kept  separated  from  their  friends 
and  each  other.  Numerous  petitions  and  advertisements 
were  constantly  sent  to  find  lost  relatives. 

A  very  beautifully  written  statement  of  a  case  pecu 
liarly  distressing,  was  made  by  Mr.  Hutchinson,  (after 
wards  Governor  of  Massachusetts,)  of  a  poor  woman 
whom  he  found  in  a  dying  state  on  board  one  of  the 


72  INTRODUCTION. 

Neutral  vessels,  which  had  been  kept  in  the  offing  some 
days,  to  the  great  detriment  of  the  suffering  passengers. 
She  was  a  widow  with  three  little  children;  and,  just 
before  her  death,  she  besought  Mr.  Hutchinson  "  to  ask 
the  Governor,  in  the  name  of  their  common  Saviour,  to 
let  her  children  remain  in  the  place"  where  she  died. 
She  had  been  kindly  removed  by  her  protector  on  shore 
to  a  tenement  of  his  own,  without  permission  of  the  Gov 
ernor,  at  his  own  risk,  and  he  now  offered  to  give  bond 
that  they  should  never  be  a  public  charge,  if  his  request 
could  be  granted. 

It  would  be  a  curious  research  to  trace  the  blood  of 
these  children  in  the  family  of  the  tory  Governor,  and  of 
others  also  ;  for,  be  it  known,  the  blood  of  the  Acadians 
now  mingles  with  the  best  blood  in  Massachusetts.  If  it 
is  asked,  "  Where  V  we  answer,  ask  of  the  tombstones 
in  every  churchyard  in  Boston.  And  to  the  question, 
"  In  what  family  does  the  blood  of  your  '  St.  Pierres ' 
flow  1 "  we  answer,  inquire  at  Mount  Auburn  ! 

We  have  never  been  so  struck  with  the  entire  alteration 
in  the  character  of  our  countrymen,  caused  by  the  Revo 
lution,  as  since  becoming  acquainted  with  the  history  of 
the  Acadians.  No  aliens  from  any  country  could,  at  the 
present  day,  be  treated  as  they  were  on  their  first  settle 
ment  among  us.  They  came,  it  is  true,  under  very  un- 
propitious  circumstances.  Their  first  refusal  to  work,  (a 
terrible  mistake,)  declaring  themselves  "  prisoners  of 
war,"  threw  them  at  once  among  paupers ;  and  although 
they  afterwards  renounced  the  position  in  practice,  and 
toiled  laboriously  whenever  they  were  able,  yet  it  was 
many  years  before  they  could  surmount  the  difficulties  by 
which  they  were  surrounded.  Bigotry,  too,  no  doubt, 
had  its  share  in  prolonging  their  misfortunes.  We  ob 
serve  among  several  of  the  petitions  addressed  to  the  then 
Governor  of  Massachusett,  that  they  account  for  much  of 
their  ill  treatment  by  a  report  which  they  say  was  indus 
triously  circulated  at  that  time,  "  that  they  had  Catholic 
priests  among  them  in  petticoats,  in  the  disguise  of  old 
women  ; "  and  though  it  was  not  pretended  that  their 
priests  affixed  the  abhorrent  S.  J.  (Society  of  Jesuits)  to 
their  names,  as  Father  Ralle,  the  unfortunate  missionary 
at  Norridgevvoack  had,  yet  the  presence  of  a  priest  of 


INTRODUCTION.  73 

their  religion,  was  not  only  prohibited  by  the  laws  of  the 
colony,  but  also  by  the  voice  of  the  people. 

We  could  not  help  remarking,  while  looking  over  the 
bills  of  expenses  presented  to  the  government  of  Massa 
chusetts  at  that  time,  that  however  they  might  have  suf 
fered  for  food,  lodging,  and  clothing,  it  appears  they  did 
not  for  medicine  ;  for  we  never  read  of  such  quantities 
put  down  the  throats  of  one  set  of  people.  There  is  a 
bill  of  one  Dr.  Trowbridge,  of  Marshfield,  if  we  recollect 
right,  for  visiting  nine  French  Neutrals,  and  administer 
ing  nine  vomits,  one  hundred  and  twenty-one  powders, 
and  applying  eight  blisters  ! 

Of  the  innocent  and  peaceable  character  of  this  people 
we  have  abundant  proofs,  inasmuch  as  they  never  opposed 
force  when  abused  and  ill  treated.  Several  petitions  for 
redress  of  grievances,  appeal  to  the  English  for  proofs 
that  they  have  often  stood  in  the  breach  between  them 
and  the  savages ;  and  one  man  testifies,  "  that  he  had 
been  three  times  taken  prisoner  by  them,  and  had  his 
house  burned  for  saving  the  crews  of  some  English  ves 
sels,  by  warning  them  of  their  danger  ;  and  now  these 
same  English  had  banished  him  to  a  land  where  they 
permitted  him  to  suffer  for  bread,  arid  that  too  from  a 
state  of  ease  and  affluence." 

It  should  be  observed  here,  that  there  was  a  scarcity 
of  bread  the  year  after  the  Neutrals  arrived.  A  blast 
fell  upon  the  grain  in  the  ear,  which  the  Neutrals  at 
tributed  to  "  the  judgments  of  God  for  their  own  fields 
wantonly  laid  waste."  They  were  not  inattentive  to  the 
signs  of  the  times.  And  the  earthquake,  (the  most  se 
vere  ever  experienced  on  this  continent,)  which  happened 
in  November,  1775,  only  a  few  weeks  after  their  arrival, 
and  which  so  shook  the  town  of  Boston  as  to  ring  the  bells 
and  throw  down  chimnies,  was  regarded  by  them  as  the 
voice  of  a  God  who  had  not  forgotten  them.  (For  an 
account  of  this  earthquake,  see  Hutchinson,  Minot,  and 
other  historians  of  that  day.  It  appears  that  it  took  a 
southwesterly  course,  and  the  town  of  Newport  (R.  I.) 
felt  the  shock  most  severe  next  to  Boston. 

1  would  here  observe  that  there  are  various  opinions, 
and  some  discrepancy  in  the  data,  of  the  first  settlement 
of  the  Madawaska.  That  the  place  is  now  settled  princi- 


74  INTRODUCTION. 

pally  by  the  descendants  of  the  Acadians  is  certain ;  that 
it  was  settled  by  the  Indians,  we  think  admits  not  of  a 
doubt — but  some  are  of  opinion  that  the  first  Acadians 
who  settled  there  were  those  who  founded  Frederickton. 
It  is  certain  that  place  was  founded  by  a  colony  of  these 
people  immediately  after  their  flight  from  Nova  Scotia  ; 
and  that  directly  after  the  commencement  of  the  revolu 
tionary  war,  in  anticipation  of  the  assistance  of  the  French, 
they  were  again  hunted  forth  by  the  British,  and  driven 
further  into  the  wilderness,  lest  they  might  discover  what 
was  going  on,  and  be  induced  to  take  sides  against  their 
old  persecutors.  This  last  supposition,  we  perceive,  has 
been  adopted  by  Mr.  Williamson,  author  of  the  History 
of  Maine,  from  whose  letter  to  the  author  of  this,  we  here 
make  an  extract : 

"  As  to  the  Madawaska  settlement,  it  is  not  quite  cer 
tain  when  it  was  commenced,  probably  not  'before  the 
American  revolution  ;  but  it  is  an  authentic  fact  that,  in 
1782,  Pierre  Lazotte,  a  young  man,  strayed  from  his 
friends  in  Canada,  and  found  his  way  to  an  Indian  settle 
ment  near  the  mouth  of  the  Madawaska  river,  where  he 
remained  during  the  subsequent  winter.  Returning  to 
his  friends,  he  gave  them  such  an  interesting  account  of 
what  he  had  witnessed,  as  to  induce  his  half-brother  Du- 
peere  to  accompany  him  to  the  same  place,  for  the  purpose 
of  trade  with  the  natives.  The  next  year  they  pursued 
their  traffic  two  or  three  miles  lower  on  the  southerly  side 
of  the  river  St.  Johns,  and  it  is  confidently  asserted  they 
were  the  first  white  settlers  who  commenced  a  settlement 
at  Madawaska. 

"  At  the  close  of  the  Revolution  there  were  found  at  the 
present  Frederickton,  the  descendants  of  those  Aca 
dians,  who  first  settled  at  the  head  of  the  Bay  of  Funday, 
and  had  been  made  prisoners,  or  were  driven  out  in  the 
woods  by  the  British.  These  ill-fated  people,  like  their 
afflicted  ancestors,  were  now  not  only  disturbed  and  plun 
dered  by  the  refugees,  but  they  were  actually  dispossessed 
of  their  farms  and  homes  by  the  British  provincial  gov 
ernment.  Thus  provoked  and  abused  beyond  endurance, 
they  fled  up  the  river  St.  Johns  in  search  of  places  and  a 
possible  residence  beyond  the  reach  of  British  oppression. 
Some  twenty  families  or  more  then  settled  themselves  on 


INTRODUCTION.  75 

that  river  below  the  trading  station  selected  a  few  years 
before  by  the  above  mentioned  Duperre,  where  they  lived 
some  years  in  the  unmolested  enjoyment  of  their  homes 
and  property. 

"  But  the  British  authorities  of  New  Brunswick  finding 
Duperre  a  man  of  some  education,  and  of  great  influence 
among  the  settlers,  soon  began  to  caress  him,  and  in  the 
year  1790  induced  him  to  receive  from  them  a  grant  of 
the  lands  he  possessed.  Hence,  by  the  influence  of  that 
man,  and  by  hopes  of  quietude,  a  large  number  of  his 
neighbors,  the  French  settlers,  took  grants  of  their  lands, 
some  paying  ten  shillings  a-piece,  and  some  nothing. 
About  the  same  period,  1790,  other  French  Neutrals, 
who  had  sought  retirement  on  the  Kenebeccasis  river, 
being  disturbed  by  the  refugees  and  acts  of  government, 
quit  their  possessions,  and  sought  an  asylum  with  their 
countrymen  at  Madawaska. 

"  To  these,  accessions  were  made  at  different  times, 
especially  in  1807,  when  the  settlement  was  begun  a  few 
miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  Madawaska  river,  and  all  of 
these  people  lived  in  mutual  fellowship,  governed  by  the 
laws  of  religion  and  morality. 

"  In  1798,  the  source  of  the  St.  Croix   (see  the  first 

vulusia  cf  my  History,  page  14)  was  ascertained  and  set 
tled  under  Jay's  treaty,  and  hence  all  pretexts  of  the 
British  to  the  Madawaska  settlement  were  at  an  end,  nor 
did  that  people  or  government  dream  of  any  right  to  claim 
any  part  of  it  for  more  than  twenty  years. 

"  On  the  15th  of  March,  IS31,  our  State  Legislature 
incorporated  the  settlement  into  the  town  of  Madawaska, 
and  some  of  the  men  who  were  engaged  in  organizing  it, 
were  seized  and  sent  to  Frederickton  jail.  You  know 
the  rest,"  &c. 

Thus  far  Mr.  Williamson.  Now,  the  Madawaska  set 
tlement  is  principally  a  range  of  clearing  of  at  least  sixty 
miles  in  length,  and  it  is  very  possible  it  might  have  been 
a  place  of  sojourn,  and  even  a  rallying  point  for  the  ban 
ished  Acadians  travelling  from  New  Brunswick  to  Canada 
— and  it  is  equally  possible  terror  might  have  driven  them 
on  to  Canada  before  Duperre  settled  in  that  region — and 
it  is  equally  possible,  as  it  was  so  extensive,  Duperre, 
though  at  the  mouth  of  the  Madawaska  river,  might  not 


76  INTRODUCTION. 

have  known  of  their  vicinity,  and  might,  after  the  dis 
covery,  have  still  been  ambitious  of  being  considered  the 
first  white  settler  in  that  region.  The  traditions  of  that 
people  go  to  prove  they  sojourned  there  at  least  before 
any  but  Indians  had  inhabited  it. 

The  Madawaska  settlement  is  principally  on  the  banks 
of  the  St.  Johns,  which  is  throughout  a  very  beautiful 
river,  widening  as  it  approaches  the  mouth  at  St.  Johns 
city,  where  it  empties  into  the  Bay  of  Funday.  It  con 
tains  thirty-five  hundred  inhabitants. 

It  is  a  little  singular,  if  the  inhabitants  considered  them 
selves  within  British  jurisdiction,  that  their  settlements  are 
beyond  the  line  of  the  disputed  territory,  in  the  province 
of  New  Brunswick— it  is  by  far  the  most  beautiful  situa 
tion  on  the  river  only  about  three  miles  on  the  New  Bruns 
wick  side  of  the  settlement.  We  allude  to  the  Grand 
Falls  of  the  St.  Johns,  which  have  never  been  improved 
until  within  the  last  six  years,  when  Sir  John  C  aid  well, 
from  Lower  Canada,  selected  and  obtained  a  grant  of 
the  land  in  its  vicinity,  where  he  has  erected  a  pretty 
cottage.  The  immense  water-power,  which  carries  the 
saw-mills,  he  has  recently  employed.  Doubtless  thi 
was  granted  with  a  view  of  making  it  a  military  stai,  KJ, 
as,  during  the  late  disturbance  on  the  boundary,  thero 
were  six  hundred  British  troops  stationed  there.  Bar 
racks  are  erected,  and  it  is  still  a  military  post,  distant 
about  thirty  miles  from  "  Fort  Fairfield,"  on  the  Aroos- 
took  river.  The  country  is  exceedingly  hilly,  with  preci 
pices  and  deep  ravines.  The  military  road  contemplated 
by  the  British  through  to  Canada,  would  be  a  stupendous 
undertaking.  There  is  one  portage  of  only  thirty-six 
miles,  where  there  are  eleven  mountains  separated  by 
deep  morasses,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Tamiscota 
lake.  Nevertheless,  the  disputed  territory  is  a  valuable 
country.  Its  forests  of  tall  timber  appear  almost  inex 
haustible  ;  and,  once  cleared,  would  afford  many  fine 
situations  for  settlements.  For  so  cold  a  country,  it  would 
be  a  fertile  one  too  ;  and  we  are  not  sure  but  clearing 
most  of  the  timber  would  be  a  blessing.  While  travelling 
in  that  region  in  the  summer  of  1839,  we  observed  that 
the  wheat  raised  there  was  remarkably  sweet  and  good 
tasted,  and  was  told  that  it  was  only  since  the  cutting  of 


INTRODUCTION.  77 

the  timber  was  prohibited,  that  they  had  turned  their 
attention  at  all  to  agriculture  :  that  before  that,  they  had 
bought  their  flour,  which  came  up  in  British  vessels  from 
St.  Johns,  at  eleven  and  twelve  dollars  per  barrel,  when  it 
was  selling  in  the  United  States  for  five  dollars,  or  they 
might  have  raised  it  themselves  while  they  were  selling 
stolen  timber.  Since  the  commotion  and  frequent  travel 
ling  in  that  region,  the  inhabitants  found  a  market  for 
their  produce  at  their  own  doors  ;  and  some  of  them  told 
me  they  had  realized  more  from  the  sale  of  oats,  &,c., 
than  they  had  made  at  any  time  in  the  same  space  by  all 
the  timber  they  could  cut.  This  relates  to  the  scattered 
population  on  the  banks  of  the  St.  Johns,  and  within  the 
Aroostook  country,  not  to  the  settlers,  of  Madawaska. 
There  is  a  deep  anxiety  in  the  disputed  territory,  through 
out,  to  have  the  question  decided,  and  know  where  they 
belong,  not  only  among  the  descendants  of  the  Acadians, 
but  of  the  English  and  Americans.  Few  of  them  would 
be  willing  to  remain  there,  unless  America  establishes 
her  claim,  and  generally  avow  their  intentions,  should  it 
prove  otherwise,  to  emigrate  to  the  West.  Their  situa 
tion  is  exceedingly  unpleasant — their  dwellings  often 
rudely  entered,  and  themselves  insulted,  by  officers  and 
soldiers  looking  for  deserters  from  the  British  army,  and 
scenes  are  enacted  trying  to  the  feelings  and  tempers  of 
the  inmates  in  no  common  degree. 

I  chanced  to  call  at  one  house  in  that  region,  where 
three  poor  fellows  had  wandered  a  few  days  before,  and, 
arriving  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  asked  succor.  It  was 
in  vain  that  the  benevolent  landlord  advised,  and  the 
females  besought  them,  to  take  some  food  in  their  hands, 
and  push  on  towards  Fort  Fairfield,  not  two  miles  off. 
They  protested  their  wearied  limbs  could  bear  them  no 
further,  and  crawled  up  a  ladder  to  sleep  under  the  roof 
of  the  building,  drawing  it  up  after  them.  They  had 
not  been  asleep  two  hours,  before  an  officer  and  some 
British  soldiers  were  thundering  for  admission,  having 
followed  their  trail.  The  master  of  the  house  refused  to 
deliver  them,  and  the  soldiers  were  ordered  to  bring  hay 
from  the  barn,  and  set  it  on  fire  under  the  hole  leading  to 
the  loft.  The  woman  of  the  house  was  lying  ill,  unable 
to  be  moved,  with  an  infant  three  days  old,  and  a  girl  in 


78  INTRODUCTION. 

the  next  room  in  a  situation  still  more  helpless,  and  the 
boy  had  had  a  fall  from  a  horse.  The  shrieks  of  the 
helpless  and  terrified  females  were  heart-rending,  as  the 
hay  once  ignited,  .there  would  have  been  no  possible 
chance  for  escape.  The  landlord,  however  distracted  he 
might  be  on  account  of  the  females,  would  make  no  effort 
to  deliver  the  deserters  ;  but  just  as  the  brand  was  about 
to  be  applied,  the  poor  fellows  offered  to  surrender  rather 
than  see  their  benefactors  perish  with  them.  Previous  to 
this  they  had  threatened  to  shoot  one  of  the  females, 
because  she  would  not  tell  them  to  come  down.  Imagin 
ation  sickens  over  the  scene  of  the  probable  punishment 
of  these  poor  fellows.  And  when  we  consider  that  this 
transaction,  and  similar  ones  that  take  place  every  week 
or  two,  was  on  American  ground,  within  two  miles  of  an 
American  fort,  it  is  enough  to  make  one's  blood  boil. 
One  person,  who  had  been  under  the  necessity  of  hoist 
ing  an  English  color,  at  one  time,  to  protect  his  house, 
and  perhaps  life,  as  he  was  an  emigrant  formerly  from 
England,  was  in  the  daily  habit  of  asking  in  prayer  that 
the  Almighty  would  save  him  from  every  thing  English — 
the  poor  fellow  did  not  seem  to  comprehend  there  was 
any  other  evil  under  the  sun.  If  such  are  the  feelings 
of  some  of  their  own  native-born  subjects,  what  must  be 
those  of  the  descendants  of  the  persecuted  and  hunted 
Acadians  1  When  Dr.  Jackson  was  making  the  geologi 
cal  survey  of  Maine,  he  found  the  people  of  Madawaska 
in  a  very  excited  state.  Eleven  families,  he  mentioned, 
had  just  emigrated  to  the  West,  and  numbers  were  pre 
paring  to  follow,  unless  the  country  should  speedily  (re 
turn)  to  the  United  States.  (See  first  number  of  report.) 
He  did  not  use  the  word  return,  which  we  have  chosen, 
as  it  is  possessed  by  the  English  now,  whose  troops 
nearly  overrun  the  whole  country,  and  have  established 
a  line  of  regular  fortifications  through,  from  Quebec  to 
New  Brunswick. 

We  were  not  aware  that  the  English  claimed  the  Mad 
awaska,  too,  upon  the  ground  of  possession,  until  our 
recent  visit.  We  asked  "  what  they  meant  by  posses 
sion?"  and  were  told,  "  because  their  subjects,  the  Neu 
tral  French,  settled  and  still  occupied  it."  Now,  the 
question  naturally  arises,  what  claim  can  the  English 


INTRODUCTION..  79 

have  upon  the  French  Neutrals  for  fealty  ?  Were  they 
not  expatriated  ?  Were  they  ever  treated  as  subjects  ? 
Not  as  citizens  certainly.  Where  are  the  proofs  of  their 
citizenship  ?  They  are  blotted  from  the  records  of  the 
provinces,  from  which  their  boundaries  and  title-deeds 
had  been  blotted  long  before.  May  Providence  in  its 
mercy  grant,  that  hunted  race  may  not  be  routed  again, 
or,  what  would  be  worse  to  them,  compelled  to  succumb 
to  British  power,  and  the  supineness  of  permitting  an 
enemy  to  establish  themselves  on  our  borders,  may  be 
remedied  before  it  is  too  late. 

The  inhabitants  of  that  wild  region  suppose  that  it 
cannot  be  that  Americans  comprehend  the  situation  of 
that  territory,  and  discern  that  it  opposes,  while  in  their 
hands,  the  strongest  impediment  to  the  concentration  of 
an  enemy's  forces  upon  our  borders  that  they  could 
possibly  ask  for.  "  Let  the  way  across  this  now  almost 
impenetrable  country  be  once  made  easy,  and  you  are 
surrounded,  say  they  ;  and  yet  you  lie  still,  while  the 
net  is  weaving  that  is  to  enclose  your  country.  The 
gins  are  laid,  and  the  bush  limed,  even  before  your 
faces." 

It  will  be  seen  that,  in  detailing  the  calamities  of  the 
Neutral  French,  but  little  reference  is  made  to  their  suf 
ferings  or  to  their  after  history  in  the  other  States.  Mas 
sachusetts  received  the  largest  number  at  first,  and  con 
tinual  accessions  seem  to  have  been  made  to  their  numbers 
there,  until  they  began  to  emigrate  to  Canada.  Yet  there 
were  many  families  left  further  south.  Some  were  carried 
to  Virginia,  some  to  Georgia,  to  Pennsylvania,  to  New 
York,  and  New  Jersey.  Many  joined  the  voyage  home 
ward,  spoken  of  in  this  story,  and  were  stopped  at  Boston 
by  orders  from  Governor  Lawrence.  But  where  are  the 
remainder  ?  What  a  tale  of  woes  remain  to  be  told, 
should  the  history  of  their  sufferings  in  all  these  places 
ever  come  to  light. 


Amusements  of  the  Acadians. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH, 

OR, 

THE    EXILES    OF    NOVA    SCOTIA. 
CHAPTER  I. 

«'  Ye  friends  to  truth,  ye  statesmen,  who  survey  * 
The  rich  man's  joys  increase,  the  poor's  decay, 
'Tis  yours  to  judge  how  wide  the  limits  stand, 
Between  a  splendid  and  a  happy  land." 

IT  was  on  the  evening  of  the  first  of,  Sept.pmberr 
1753,  tlmi  a  family,  inhabiting  an  old  .fashioned, 
French-looking  farmhouse,  situated  on  the  rising 
ground  a  few  miles  from  that  beautiful  and  noble 
expanse  of  water  called  the  "Basin  of  Minas," 
were  assembled  to  partake  of  their  frugal  meal. 

The  persons  who  composed  the  group  around 
the  circular  oaken  table  at  this  time  were,  first,  an 
aged  and  venerable  man,  who  appeared  the  head  of 
the  family,  as  he  was  served  with  a  degree  of  re 
spect  that  might  have  gratified  an  emperor,  but  was 
that  kind  of  homage  that  kings  and  emperors  rarely 
receive.  His  age  was  probably  not  less  than  eighty- 
five,  possibly  more,  since  his  head  was  not  only 
silvered  over  with  age,  hands  feeble  and  trembling, 
and  his  mouth  toothless,  but  he  was  blind,  totally 
blind,  as  was  evinced  by  the  attentions  of  his 
grand-daughter,  a  fine,  blooming  girl,  who  sat  on 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

his  left,  and  from  time  to  time  turned  round  to  cut 
up  his  meat  or  place  the  cup  of  cider  or  small  beer 
in  his  hand. 

Gasper  St.  Pierre  Le  Blanc  was  the  name  of  this 
patriarch,  though  we  drop  the  last  for  brevity  ;  and 
on  the  right  of  him  sat  a  respectable  looking  far 
mer,  in  appearance  about  middle  age,  together  with 
his  wife,  whose  age  could  not  have  been  much  less 
than  forty,  young  as  they  married  in  that  region ; 
though  madam  exhibited  much  less  of  the  wear 
and  tear  of  life  than  is  usual  at  that  age,  and  much 
less  than  her  good  man,  who  in  reality  was  her 
junior  by  a  year  or  two,  notwithstanding  he  looked 
a  dozen  years  older.  Louis,  however,  though  not 
handsome,  was  a  person  of  excellent  principles, 
sound  mind,  and,  for  those  regions,  of  superior 
cultivation.  Among  other  accomplishments,  he 
spoke  good  English,  and  with  indefatigable  indus 
try  he  had  labored  to  give  his  children  a  competent 
knowledge  of  that  language  ;  for,  with  prophetic 
foreboding,  he  hau  SiuTmscd  iiiat  the  time  \VGUlcL 
come  when  a  knowledge  of  it  might  be  almost 
indispensable,  though  little  did  he,  or  any  other  of 
that  simple  people,  anticipate  the  truth. 

Four  stout,  ablebodied  young  lads,  the  oldest  of 
whom  was  called  Louis,  after  his  father,  and  the 
next  Gasper,  after  his  grandfather,  sat  around  the 
table,  with  two  grand-daughters,  one  of  whom,  Pau 
line,  has  been  noticed :  the  younger  was  called 
Josephine.  Beside  the  eldest  young  man,  who  was 
in  reality  the  oldest  child,  sat  a  pale,  sickly  young 
woman,  his  wife,  and  her  two  little  children,  a  boy 
and  girl.  This  couple  resided  about  two  miles  off, 
and  were  then  on  a  visit  to  the  paternal  mansion, 
hoping  that  the  cheerful  society  in  that  happy 
abode,  together  with  her  respite  from  domestic  avo 
cations,  might  be  efficacious  in  restoring  her  wasted 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  83 

strength  ;  and,  as  her  husband,  Louis  the  younger, 
said,  "call  back  the  roses  to  her  cheeks." 

The  plain  but  substantial  fare  to  which  this  fam 
ily  of  love  had  now  sat  down,  their  afternoon  meal, 
consisted  of  a  sirloin  of  cold 'roast  beef,  bacon  and 
eggs,  wheat  cakes  and  pies,  together  with  a  bever 
age  of  cider,  and  homemade  beer  from  the  roots 
and  herbs  with  which  their  forests  abounded.  The 
plates  they  ate  from,  were  out  of  a  hard  kind  of 
wood,  which  the  English  called  "  trenchers  ;  "  they 
were  of  their  own  manufacture,  and  as  white  as 
scouring  could  make  them.  The  tablecloth,  made, 
as  all  their  linens  were,  from  flax  of  their  own 
raising,  was  of  snowy  whiteness.  Of  earthen  dish 
es  they  used  but  few  ;  yet  the  little  mugs  the  chil 
dren  drank  their  milk  from,  was  of  delf  ware. 

It  was  a  warm  day  for  the  season,  in  that  lati 
tude,  and  the  windows  in  front  of  the  house,  and 
the  outside  door,  which  opened  from  this  their  best 
room  upon  the  green  plot  and  wilderness  of  sweets 
by  which  it  was  surrounded,  were  open.  The 
harvest  had  been  gathered  in  rather  earlier  than 
usual,  even  for  their  short  season,  and  earlier  than 
Louis  thought  advisable  ;  but  it  had  been  expedited 
at  the  command  of  the  Governor,  who  had  issued 
his  commands  in  a  proclamation,  ordering  "that 
every  man's  harvest  should  be  gathered  in  by  the 
first  of  September  ;  "  a  requisition  that,  among  any 
other  people,  would  have  excited  suspicions  of 
something  mischievous — but  with  this  simple  and 
single-hearted  race,  accustomed  as  they  were  to 
arbitrary  and  unreasonable  enactments,  created  no 
apprehensions  or  alarm.  The  gathering,  however, 
had  always,  previous  to  this,  been  succeeded  by  a 
kind  of  holyday.  when  all  labor  was  laid  aside, 
and  friends  and  neighbors  met  together  to  rejoice 
in  the  bounties  of  a  kind  Providence.  But  now, 


84  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

whether  it  was  they  became  aware  that  the  right 
of  happiness  was  exasperating  to  their  oppressors, 
or  for  whatever  reason,  the  holydays  were  unob 
served,  and  nothing  of  the  kind  wns  seen  among 
them. 

As  they  arose  from  the  supper-table,  the  fair  and 
feeble  invalid,  whose  name  was  Gabriel) a,  seated 
herself  at  the  door  to  enjoy  the  breeze  from  the 
salt  water,  which,  flowing  in  from  the  Bay  of 
Funday,  mingles  with  the  waters  of  nineteen  riv 
ers,  that  discharge  themselves  into  the  Basin  of 
Minas.  This  capacious  inland  sea,  of  which  a  very 
small  part  could  be  seen  from  the  point  described, 
its  distance  being  mingled  with  the  blue  of  the 
heavens,  lay  fair  before  them.  The  rays  of  the 
declining  sun  were  now  dancing  on  its  dazzling 
waters,  and  on  the  fine  forests  which  extended  here 
and  there  along  its  borders.  The  hues  of  autumn 
had  already  succeeded  their  brief  summer,  and  had 
tipped  the  trees  with  its  many  colors,  but  had  not 
touched  the  deep  green  intervals  which  abounded 
in  these  regions.  One  of  the  rivers  passed  through 
Gasper's  farm,  near  his  house,  from  whence,  after 
several  fantastic  turns,  it  discharged  itself  into  the 
Basin. 

But  chiefly  would  the  beautiful  lowlands  in 
front,  defended  from  the  tides  by  the  dikes,  have 
charmed  the  attention  of  the  gazer,  where  immense 
droves  of  cattle  were  quietly  feeding,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  a  few  young  heifers,  who  were  playing 
their  gambols  and  chasing  each  other  around  the 
enclosures,  while  the  pastures  above  were  whitened 
with  flocks  of  sheep. 

As  the  breeze  from  the  water  fanned  the  cheek 
of  the  fair  invalid,  her  spirits  seemed  to  revive,  and 
she  broke  out  in  strains  of  admiring  observation 
upon  the  scene  before  her.  "  This  is  not  the  first 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  85 

time,"  she  concluded,  "  that  this  enchanting  land 
scape  has  solicited  my  attention,  and  impressed  me. 
by  its  grandeur,  with  elevated  ideas  of  the  power 
of  Him  who  could  create  such  wonders  ;  hut  never 
before  was  I  so  sensible  of  its  beauties,  never  have 
I  had  such  feelings  while  gazing  as  now.  Surely 
we  are  much  blessed  in  our  place  of  abode,  if  the 
Lord  has  permitted  some  burdens  to  be  laid  upon 
us." 

"  Great  reason,  indeed,  to  be  thankful,"  respond 
ed  her  husband,  "  and  our  burdens,  I  think,  will 
soon  cease  to  afflict ;  for  it  is  impossible  for  a  peo 
ple  to  concede  as  much  as  we  have,  to  obey  all 
reasonable,  and  many  unreasonable  requisitions,  in 
the  true  spirit  of  forbearance,  as  I  think  we  have 
done,  without  eventually  disarming  suspicion  and 
conciliating  enmity." 

The  blind  father  shook  his  head. 

''  Conciliation  is,  I  fear,  out  of  the  question," 
said  he  ;  "  envy  and  enmity  never  were  appeased 
by  submission.  Tyranny  and  despotism  continu 
ally  exact  fresh  sacrifices.  Nevertheless,  I  have 
always  been  opposed  to  resistance  ;  to  suffer  patient 
ly,  yea,  meekly,  seems  to  be  the  doctrine  of  our 
divine  master.  '  He  that  takes  the  sword,  shall 
perish  with  the  sword,'  is  one  of  the  threats  of  the 
gospel.  Is  it  not  so  written  in  the  little  French 
bible  that  your  wife's  mother  sent  you,  Louis  ? " 

"It  is,  indeed,  my  father,"  said  Louis,  seating 
himself  beside  the  old  man,  and  affectionately  tak 
ing  a  hand  in  his.  "  But  do  you  know,  father,  I 
have  taken  the  liberty  to  translate  this  text  for 
myself  of  late ;  and,  with  all  proper  submission  to 
your  superior  wisdom  and  exemplary  piety,  I  un 
derstand  it  different  from  yourself.  I  believe  that 
our  Saviour  spoke  of  individual  injuries  alone,  and 
possibly  had  allusion  to  the  deadly  practice  of  sin 
gle  combat,  which  was  even  then  practised  by  the 
8 


86  THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH. 

Romans  and  other  nations,  upon  every  real  or  sup 
posed  injury.  Every  thing,  in  my  opinion,  is  to  be 
understood  with  reason ;  and  we  cannot  suppose 
that  a  company  of  blustering,  bullying,  fighting 
followers,  would  have  had  any  tendency  to  recom 
mend  the  religion  of  the  gospel  j  besides,  force 
would  have  been  met  with  force,  and  the  church's 
victory  over  her  enemies  was  attempted  upon  a 
new  plan,  and  the  superiority  of  endurance  no  one 
pretended  to  contest.  Again,  my  dear  father,  there 
are  other  things  commanded,  one  of  which  is  for 
every  man  to  provide  for  his  own  household ;  and 
in  many  instances  this  could  not  be  done  without 
fighting  for  one's  rights.  And  my  opinion  now  is, 
that  if  we  had  early  stood  by  ours,  with  sword  in 
hand,  yea,  fought  to  the  last  gasp,  if  need  be,  it 
would  have  been  better  for  us  as  a  people.  Be  not 
alarmed,  (seeing  the  old  man  start,  and  raise  his 
sightless  orbs  to  heaven,)  I  am  not  going  to  counsel 
resistance  now.  It  is  too  late,  the  die  is  cast.  We 
cannot  beard  the  lion  in  his  den,  and  especially 
after  he  has  drawn  our  teeth.  We  may  as  well 
make  a  virtue  of  necessity  now.  Fools  that  we 
have  been,  to  throw  away  the  means  of  defence 
while  they  were  in  our  power.  We  could  at  least 
have  died  gloriously,  every  man  perishing  at  his 
threshold.  Then  we  might  have  been  honored. 
Now  what  are  we  ?  " 

"  A  Christian  people  !  "  said  the  old  man,  meekly. 

"A  dishonored  one,"  said  Louis,  with  bitterness. 
"  What  will  future  ages  say  of  us  ?  That  we  sat 
down  ingloriously,  and  let  the  spoiler  and  extor 
tioner  take  all  that  we  had.  We  shall  soon  become 
hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water  to  our  proud 
taskmasters,  who  will  class  us  with  the  dogs  of  the 
fold." 

"  That  our  cup  is  not  yet  filled,  I  fully  believe," 
said  Gasper.  "  But  oh,  my  son,  is  it  not  the  Lord 


THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH.  87 

that  afflicts  us  ?  Shall  there  be  evil  in  the  city, 
and  the  Lord  hath  not  done  it  ?  I  beseech  you,  my 
son,  to  restrain  this  impatience." 

"  One  word  more,  my  father.  Have  not  myself 
and  brethren,  yea,  hundreds  and  thousands  of  our 
people,  been  worked  beyond  our  strength  this  whole 
summer,  to  bring  timber  and  build  places  to  defend 
our  enemies  against  our  friends?  Have  we  not, 
ourselves,  put  the  whole  country  in  a  state  of  de 
fence,  without  fee  or  reward,  goaded  on  by  threats 
and  curses  ?  Our  best  timber  used,  our  provender 
taken  for  their  horses,  and  our  horses  too,  whenever 
our  tyrants  fancied  they  had  need  of  them  ;  and, 
in  short,  every  thing  else  they  chose  to  demand. 
Is  not  all  this  true  ?  "  said  Louis,  clenching  his 
teeth. 

"  There  is  one  comfort,  father,"  said  Louis  the 
younger,  now  attempting  to  take  a  part  in  the 
conversation. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  demanded  two  or  three  voices 
at  once. 

"  There  is  not  much  more  that  they  can  do." 

"  Mistaken  !  mistaken !  ye  cheated  all !  "  shouted 
a  strange  and  uncouth  voice ;  and,  ere  they  were 
aware,  a  tall  Indian  sprang  from  behind  a  grove  of 
cherry  trees  and  currant  bushes,  which  grew  near 
the  window,  and  without  more  ceremony  stalked 
into  the  middle  of  the  room. 

He  was  a  man  apparently  about  fifty  years  of 
age,  and  though  not  exactly  possessing  the  fero 
cious  aspect  of  most  of  his  nation,  yet  his  counte 
nance  exhibited  sufficient  courage  and  determina 
tion,  mixed  with  not  a  little  of  that  overreaching 
and  superlative  cunning  for  which  that  wily  people 
had  long  been  celebrated ;  for  Menoi  was  not  one 
of  the  Tarratine  tribe,  their  next  neighbors,  but  a 
Mic  Mac,  and  had  recently  travelled  from  Canada 
by  a  most  lengthy  and  roundabout  way,  to  elude 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

the  English,  upon  a  real  errand  of  kindness.  He 
had  traversed  mountains  and  morasses,  backing  his 
canoe  over  many  a  weary  mile,  where  none  but  an 
Indian  would  ever  dream  of  carrying  himself — had 
encountered  rapids  and  whirlpools,  and  the  greater 
dangers  of  pursuit  from  the  English,  whom  he  had 
eluded  by  various  stratagems  on  his  journey,  con 
vinced  they  would  show  no  mercy,  and  brave  many 
dangers  for  a  scalp  for  which  ten  guineas  had  been 
offered  by  the  government.  And,  in  short,  after 
every  species  of  daring,  in  behalf  of  the  oppressed 
and  threatened  Acadians,  and  every  artifice  to  baffle 
his  pursuers,  he  had  succeeded  ;  and  now,  in  all 
the  grandeur  of  savage  magnificence,  stood  before 
them. 

The  wild  halloo  with  which  Menoi  usually  greet 
ed  his  friends  upon  entering  their  dwellings,  was 
not  used  on  this  occasion.  For,  uttering  the  words 
just  mentioned,  tl  yo  chpatpd  all  !  "  he  was  silent 
for  several  minutes,  standing  in  the  middle  of  iae 
floor  ;  and,  with  his  naked  sinewy  arms  drawing 
his  blanket  around  him,  he  regarded  the  party  at 
the  farm  with  such  a  strange  and  equivocal  expres 
sion,  as  caused  the  hair  to  rise  upon  the  heads  of 
the  younger  part  of  the  company.  He  had  evi 
dently  just  come  from  a  long  journey.  His  sandals 
were  completely  worn  out,  and  fragments  of  what 
had  been  red  gaiters,  hung  in  fragments  about  his 
legs,  which  were  scratched  and  torn  in  every  direc 
tion.  The  party-colored  feathers  which  distin 
guished  a  chief  of  his  nation,  hung  down  from  his 
head  all  soiled  and  broken,  and  the  stout  wampum - 
belt,  which  bound  his  waist,  and  served  both  for 
ornament  and  to  confine  a  kind  of  close  jacket 
without  sleeves,  exhibited  many  a  rent.  In  short, 
his  whole  appearance  bespoke  hard  travel,  fatigue, 
and  famine.  But  nothing  could  induce  him  to  sit 
down  to  the  abundant  fare  which  yet  remained  on 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  89 

the  table,  until  he  had  delivered  his  message,  which 
was  "to  warn  as  many  of  the  Acadian  families  as 
possible,  and  this  in  particular,  that  treachery  was 
on  foot ;  that  they  were  menaced  by  some  new 
calamity,  worse  than  all  they  had  endured,  but  of 
what  nature  he  was  not  able  to  say.  The  discov 
ery  had  been  made  by  some  of  the  Acadians,  who 
had  fled  towards  Canada,  and  sent  on  a  report  by 
the  Indians,  to  warn  their  brethren  in  Acadia  10 
flee  after  them." 

The  friendly  savage  urged  their  immediate  flight 
with  all  .the  eloquence  he  was  capable  of,  and  offer 
ed  to  assist  in  conducting  their  escape. 

The  aged  Gasper  declared  at  once,  urging  his 
inability  to  fly,  as  well  as  the  fair  invalid ;  and  no 
persuasion  could  induce  the  husband  to  desert  his 
wife,  or  the  younger  part  of  the  family  to  leave 
their  aged  relative. 

Deep  was  the  grief  of  the  savage.  The  tears 
actually  sprang  to  his  eyes,  and  rallied  down  his 
cheeks,  while  he  endeavored,  in  bis  broken  French, 
to  persuade  them  it  was  their  duty  to  go,  such  as 
could.  But  all  his  arguments  were  vain,  and  after 
partaking  their  hospitality,  and  consenting  to  take 
a  stock  of  provision,  which  the  younger  part  of  the 
company  forced  upon  him,  he  rose  to  depart. 

"  Menoi  bid  you  farewell  forever !  "  said  he,  as, 
gliding  Across  the  room,  he  approached  the  venera 
ble  Gasper. 

"  Menoi  your  brother,"  added  he,  drawing  across 
from  his  bosom,  and  reverently  kissing  it,  "  and 
you  a  father,  you  long  serve  him  twenty  years  ago, 
when  I  sell  skins  here.  I  find  you  same  good  man, 
and  now  you  bless  him,  bless  Menoi,"  and  he  bent 
the  knee  gracefully  before  the  patriarch. 

"If  Menoi  is  not  a  man  of  Wood,"  said  the  old 
man,  slowly  rising  and  laying  his  hand  upon  the 
head  of  the  savage.  "  may  the  God  of  '  '•*«*.«  hp 
8* 


90  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

with  him ;  and  if  he  war  in  defence  of  the  inno 
cent,  may  the  God  of  battles  defend  hirn." 

"Amen!"  said  the  chief;  and,  springing  from 
the  floor,  he  darted  out,  and  plunging  into  the 
bushes,  was  out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 

Unperceived  by  the  other  members  of  the  family, 
who  sat,  as  it  were,  rivetted  to  their  seats,  Louis 
the  elder  slipped  out  of  the  house  by  a  back  way 
at  the  same  time,  and  rising  the  hill,  and  placing 
himself  in  a  very  conspicuous  situation,  began  to 
call,  as  though  gathering  the  sheep  to  fold.  The 
signal  was  understood  by  Menoi,  and  in  a  few  mo 
ments  he  was  by  his  side,  who,  laying  his  finger 
on  his  lips,  beckoned  him  to  follow  to  a  more 
retired  spot.  A  little  grove  of  cypress  was  just 
behind,  and  to  this  Louis  retreated,  and  found  his 
red  friend  in  waiting. 

Lofty  and  commanding  in  his  aspect  at  all  times, 
there  was  a  something  in  his  look  now,  that  told 
not  of  this  world ;  and  Louis,  as  he  drew  near, 
said,  almost  unconsciously, 

"  I  never  knew  but  one  who  looked  like  you, 
Menoi,  and  that  was  my  venerable  grandfather,  the 
day  before  his  death.  Alas  !  if  you  should  be  a 
martyr  in  our  cause." 

The  lip  of  the  savage  curled  in  scorn,  as  he  re 
plied,  "  Think  I  fear  death  ?  Menoi  no  'fraid  to 
die.  Jesus,  Holy  Virgin,  all  good  men  gone  before." 
And  he  pointed  upward,  "  No  English  there." 

"  Perhaps,  Menoi,  the  people  in  England  are  not 
so  wicked  as  those  of  this  region.  I  cannot  believe 
but  there  are  some  good  among  so  many  ;  and  I 
doubt  whether  the  King  sanctions  the  impositions 
and  cruelties  practised  in  these  regions." 

Menoi  shook  his  head  as  he  replied,  "  Don't  be 
lieve,  don't  believe."  "But,"  added  he,  "  no  time 
for  talk,"  and  giving  quite  a  wary  look  around,  he 
drew  quite  near,  and  saying,  "  have  you  courage 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  91 

to  use  these?"  he  drew  forth  from  his  tattered 
garments  a  pistol,  hatchet,  and  dirk,  which,  to 
gether  with  some  ammunition,  he  handed  to  Louis, 
and  whispering,  "  Be  watchful,"  sprang  into  some 
bushes,  and  again  disappeared. 

For  a  moment  Louis  gazed  around  him.  Far  as 
the  eye  could  see,  all  was  quiet.  There  was  no 
apparent  cause  of  alarm.  The  distant  rampart  of 

Fort was  seen  in  the  quiet  of  evening.  A 

gentle  breeze  just  shook  the  standard  that  floated 
from  the  flagstaff.  No  sign  of  commotion  was 
there.  And  while  he  looked,  the  sun  sunk  behind 
the  neighboring  hills.  The  revelly  beat  to  quar 
ters — the  evening-gun  was  fired,  and  the  standard 
ran  down  as  usual  at  that  hour,  and  all  but  the 
sentinels  retired  within  the  fort. 

"  One  would  think,"  said  Louis  mentally,  "  that 
all  was  peaceable  here.  But  my  heart  has  misgiven 
me  before  this.  Why  all  this  formidable  array  of 
soldiers,  too  ?  Methinks  there  is  something  suspi 
cious  even  in  the  profound  quiet  observed  by  such 
a  force.  Alas !  evil  may  come,  like  the  day  of 
judgment,  when  no  man  looks  for  it.  My  mind, 
however,  is  made  up ;  and,  beautiful  scenes  of  my 
childhood,  something  tells  me  I  shall  not  soon  see 
you  again." 

Then  concealing  his  prize  carefully  beneath  his 
vest,  he  walked  towards  the  house,  until,  meeting 
one  of  his  younger  sons,  he  informed  him  that 
business  of  great  importance  summoned  him  from 
home,  requested  him  to  return,  and  tell  the  family 
not  to  be  alarmed  if  he  should  be  absent  the  next 
day.  Taking  then  an  obscure  path  that  led  through 
the  wood,  he  hurried  away. 


92  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH, 


CHAPTER  II. 

*«  To  me  more  dear,  congenial  to  my  heart, 
One  native  charm,  than  all  the  gloss  of  art; 
Spontaneous  joys,  where  nature  has  its  play, 
The  soul  adopts,  and  owns  their  firstborn  sway." 

THE  absence  of  Louis  would  not  have  been 
much  noticed  at  any  other  time.  The  Neutral 
French  lived  so  much  like  one  large  family,  it  was 
not  uncommon  to  spend  the  night  at  a  neighbor's 
house.  They  were  eminently  social,  and  the  rem 
nant  of  them,  to  this  day,  spend  much  of  their 
time  in  visiting  each  other.  They  used  never  to 
fasten  their  doors,  or  leave  any  protection  except 
the  faithful  watch-dog,  who  protected  their  flocks, 
&c.  from  the  beasts  of  the  forest.  In  fact,  they 
had  nothing  to  fear,  until  the  proximity  of  the 
English.  We  have  it  from  their  enemies,  that  the 
crimes  of  theft,  adultery,  and  murder,  were  crimes 
unknown  among  them.  But  since  their  acquaint 
ance  and  neighborhood  with  the  subjects  of  his 
Britannic  Majesty — with  "  the  most  refined  and 
Christian  nation  on  earth/'  as  they  term  them 
selves,  the  dark-eyed  daughters  of  Acadia  had  ra 
ther  abridged  their  walks  by  moonlight ;  and,  in 
deed,  careful  matrons  had,  of  late,  seen  fit  to  pro 
hibit  lonely  walks  at  any  hour.  Still,  the  male 
part  of  the  population  thought  nothing  of  an  eve 
ning's  walk  of  some  eight  or  ten  miles.  But  just 
at  this  time,  when  the  warning  voice  of  friendship 
had  sounded  an  alarm  in  their  ears  ;  just  as  some 
unknown  danger  menaced  them,  a  danger  not  the 
less  dreaded,  because  of  the  mystery  of  darkness  in 
which  it  was  enveloped,  it  was  most  strange. 

The  idea  that  the  savage  had  spirited  Louis 
away,  never  entered  the  mind  of  this  unsuspicious 
family.  But  he  might,  they  thought,  have  travel- 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  93 

led  to  some  of  the  neighboring  settlements,  to 
counsel  with  some  of  his  brethren  who  resided 
there,  and,  if  possible,  unravel  the  dark  plot,  of 
which,  it  seemed,  they  were  to  be  the  victims.  It 
cannot  be  supposed  but  the  absence  of  the  father 
of  the  family  was  felt,  as  they  closed  the  door  and 
windows  of  the  apartment,  and  drew  near  the 
hearth,  where  a  cheerful  fire  had  been  lighted,  to 
remedy  the  dampness  arising  from  the  near  neigh 
borhood  of  the  river,  and  counteract  the  increasing 
chill  of  the  atmosphere. 

The  family  drew  near  the  hearth—the  spinning- 
wheel  was  brought  for  madam,  and  the  knitting  for 
the  girls  ;  but  they  were  untouched,  and  each  sat 
lost  in  deep  thought.  The  sprightly  Pauline  was 
the  first  to  break  silence. 

"  Dear  grandfather,"  said  she,  "do  you  not  wish 
we  had  the  Baron  Castine  to  resort  to  for  advice 
and  assistance  ?  You  have  often  told  how  much 
assistance  he  rendered  our  persecuted  brethren  of 
old,  and  how  much  blood  would  often  have  been 
shed  but  for  his  timely  interference,  and  yet  you 
never  told  me  who  he  was;  whether  he  was  a 
Frenchman,  Acadian,  or  what.  Nor,  indeed,  do  I 
know  exactly  where  he  resided.  Will  you  please 
to  tell  us  something  of  him  this  dreary  evening  ? 
for,  really,  the  visit  of  the  friendly  savage  has 
thrown  us  all  into  gloom ;  and  as  to  exertion  we 
know  not  what  to  do.  We  know  not  the  evil  we 
are  threatened  with,  and  therefore  cannot  prepare 
against  it." 

"  True,  my  own  dear  grandchild,  we  must  leave 
this  thing  in  the  hands  of  Him  who  will,  if  we 
have  faith,  order  all  things  for  our  good  ;  and  in 
the  mean  time  possess  our  souls  in  patience.  I 
seem  to  hear  a  voice  that  says,  c  Be  still,  and  know 
that  I  am  God.'  With  regard  to  the  narrative  you 
speak  of,  most  gladly  will  I  comply,  if  my  dear 


94 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 


children  can  compose  themselves  to  listen  to  me. 
So  much  has  been  said  respecting  that  celebrated 
individual,  by  his  enthusiastic  friends  and  bitter 
enemies,  that  posterity  will  scarce  know  what  to 
decide  on.  And  I  am  not  to  be  his  judge,  or  even 
decide  on  his  character  with  future  generations. 
Nor  should  I  be  competent  to  do  so.  I  can  only 
tell  you  what  I  know." 

What  a  charm  there  is  in  a  story.  Each  one 
seemed  to  lose  at  least  half  their  cares  in  the  antici 
pated  narrative  ;  and  at  once  forming  a  circle  around 
the  venerable  man,  entreated  him  to  proceed.  And 
pleased  that  he  could  in  any  way  contribute  to  the 
restoration  of  cheerfulness  and  beguile  the  hours, 
he  proceeded. 


"It  was  about  the  year  1666,  that  M.  De  Cour- 
celles  was  appointed  Governor  of  New  France,  and 
with  him  came  over  a  regiment  of  Cavignan  sal- 
lures.  The  Baron  Castine  was  an  officer  in  the 
regiment,  and  of  course  came  over  with  them. 
The  Baron  was  a  native  of  Berne,  and  his  estates, 
which  were  very  considerable,  were  in  France.  Of 
his  former  life  we  have  no  knowledge,  though  we 
have  every  reason  to  believe  it  correct.  He  was  a 
young  man  and  unmarried  when  he  came  to  Ameri 
ca.  Attracted  by  the  beauty  of  the  country,  and, 
as  was  asserted  by  those  who  knew  him  best,  influ 
enced  by  a  desire  to  civilize  and  Christianize  the 
Indians,  he  was  induced  to  take  up  his  permanent 
abode  in  the  country.  Selecting  a  tract  of  land  on 
a  peninsular  east  of  the  Penobscot  river,  of  about 
twenty-six  hundred  acres,  he  seated  himself  down, 
and  commenced  his  labors  of  love.  The  place 
which  he  selected,  near  the  mouth  of  the  river, 
was  an  eminently  beautiful  one ;  but.  from  its  ex- 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  95 

posed  situation,  guarded  by  a  fort,  which  was  com 
manded  by  a  French  officer,  (D'Aulriey's  Fort,) 
who  established  his  headquarters  there  for  eight 
years,  from  1640  to  1648.  It  originally  bore  the 
name  of  a  French  gentleman,  who  resided  there 
several  years,  Major  Biguyduce  ;  but  will,  proba 
bly,  now  to  the  end  of  time  be  called  after  the 
Baron  Castine,  who  resided  there  thirty  years. 

"  The  influence  of  Baron  Castine  among  the  sur 
rounding  tribes,  was  certainly  great.  He  connected 
himself  with  them  by  marriage,  having  taken  a 
daughter  of  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  Tarrentine 
tribe  to  wife.  He  has  been  accused  by  the  Eng 
lish  of  doing  this  as  a  political  manoeuvre,  in  order 
to  establish  his  power  on  a  sure  basis.  You  your 
selves  can  judge  of  that  when  I  come  to  describe 
her.  Certain  it  is,  he  had  been  long  laboring  to 
convince  the  savages  of  the  sin  and  folly  of  a  plu 
rality  of  wives,  and  of  the  sacred  nature  of  the 
marriage  covenant ;  and  this  measure,  combined 
with  his  after  life  as  a  married  man,  had  more  in 
fluence  with  them  than  all  the  arguments  himself 
and  the  priests  together  had  been  able  to  offer." 

"  But,  grandfather,  where  was  Castine  ?  Was  it 
in  Canada,  or  Nova  Scotia,  or  New  England  ?  " 

"My  dear,  it  was  on  the  extreme  western  boun 
dary  of  what  was  called  New  France,  whose  Gov 
ernor  had  erected  the  fort  just  mentioned.  Acadia, 
which  was  called  a  province  of  New  France,  origi 
nally  extended  to  the  Penobscot  river,  though  now 
it  has  passed  and  repassed  through  the  hands  of  the 
two  Powers,  until  we  can  scarce  tell  its  ancient 
boundaries. 

"  It  was  during  one  of  those  seasons  of  peril  and 
alarm,  to  which  our  unhappy  and  ill-starred  people 
have  been  almost  constantly  exposed,  that  I,  with 
a  number  of  others,  were  commissioned  to  visit  the 
Rai^n  Castine,  chiefly  to  seek  his  counsel  and  be 


96  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

guided  by  his  wisdom  in  the  threatened  conflict. 
It  was  during  an  inclement  season  of  the  year, 
though  winter  had  not  actually  set  in,  that  we 
commenced  our  perilous  journey.  Our  dangers,  by 
land  and  by  sea,  were  many.  Sometimes  we  would 
course  along  the  shores  in  our  frail  canoes — some 
times  steal  through  the  forests,  guided  by  the  friend 
ly  Indians — and  alternately  we  threa'ded  the  tan 
gled  thickets  or  sailed  the  rapid  rivers.  It -was  not 
until  many  weeks  after  our  departure  from  this 
district,  that  our  eyes  were  -greeted  with  the  sight 
of  the  royal  standard  of  France  floating  over  the 
fort  of  Biguyduce.  We  were  hailed,  and  answer 
ing  in  French,  was  a  sufficient  claim  upon  the  hos 
pitalities  of  the  garrison,  who  immediately  tendered 
every  kindness  and  attention.  After  partaking  of 
some  refreshment  and  warming  our  benumbed  and 
almost  frozen  limbs,  we  departed  for  the  residence 
of  the  Baron,  who,  we  were  informed,  had  fortu 
nately  just  returned  to  his  home,  after  a  journey. 

"  The  residence  of  the  Baron  Castine  was  a  long, 
low,  irregular  building,  partly  of  wood  and  partly 
of  stone,  of  rather  grotesque  appearance.  The 
windows,  which  were  small  and  high,  admitted  not 
a  view  of  those  within  ;  but  the  rays  of  light  were 
(as  it  was  now  evening)  streaming  from  them  in 
several  directions.  The  appearance  of  our  sable 
conductor,  and  our  speech,  secured  us  an  easy  en 
trance  from  the  old  French  soldier  who  officiated 
as  porter,  and  we  were  at  once  admitted ;  and  so 
noiseless  was  our  approach,  that  the  party  within 
did  not  at  first  perceive  our  vicinity. 

"  I  must  here  confess  that,  notwithstanding  all 
the  esteem  I  had  conceived  for  the  Baron,  for  his 
great  regard  uniformly  manifested  towards  the  Aca- 
dians,  and  his  great  exertions  to  humanize  the  sav 
ages,  yet  I  could  not  think  of  his  Indian  wife  with 
out  disgust.  I  had  never  seen,  in  all  our  tradings 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  97 

with  the  Indians,  who,  you  know,  have  come  from 
all  parts  to  trade  their  furs,  any  of  their  squaws 
but  what  were  rendered  hideous  by  negligence, 
untidiness,  and  the  most  barbarous  style  of  dress, 
if  the  half  garments  they  wore  could  be  called 
such ;  and  it  cannot  be  supposed  I  was  prepared  to 
behold  the  lady  of  the  mansion  with  any  senti 
ments  of  regard,  to  say  nothing  of  admiration. 
You  may  imagine,  then,  my  feelings,  when,  start 
ing  from  the  floor  where  she  was  playing  with  her 
children,  and,  turning  hastily  round,  the  chieftain's 
wife  discovered  to  my  astonished  -gaze  the  most 
beautiful  female,  by  far,  I  had  ever  seen.  The 
form,  which  was  grace  and  symmetry  itself,  was 
the  first,  probably,  that  would  strike  the  beholder. 
Her  features  were  exquisite,  as  well  as  the  form, 
and  her  skin  no  darker  than  a  great  part  of  our 
own  nation.  Health,  and  perhaps  a  little  excite 
ment,  had  given  a  heightened  glow  to  her  com 
plexion,  and  her  eyes  sparkled  like  gems.  There 
was  nothing  terrific  in  their  glances,  nothing  start 
ling,  unless  it  was  that  expression  which  seemed  to 
read  the  soul  at  once.  Her  dress  was  a  singular 
mixture  of  Indian  and  European  fashion.  No  stock 
ing  covered  the  well-turned  ankle,  and  the  little 
foot  was  only  partially  hid  by  sandals,  laced  with 
blue  ribbons.  A  close  dress  of  blue  satin  fitted 
admirably  to  her  shape,  and  was  laced  over  her 
bosom  with  gold  cord  and  richly  ornament  borders 
of  the  same,  while  a  mantle  of  silk,  of  the  color  of 
the  peach-blossom,  thrown  over  her  shoulders,  fell 
in  graceful  folds  to  the  ground.  Her  coal-black 
tresses  were  braided  with  strings  of  pearl  and  fine 
gold  beads,  and  twisted  around  her  head,  being 
confined  by  a  brooch  of  pearl  and  gold.  She  had 
ear-rings  of  the  same,  and  bracelets  adorned  her 
arms,  which,  as  relieved  by  the  folds  of  the  mantle, 
were  bare  nearly  to  the  shoulders.  Two  female 
9 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 


children,  lovely  as  cherubs,  were  sporting  in  her 
arms  and  twining  round  her  neck  as  we  entered  : 
but,  putting  them  aside,  and  gracefully  motioning 
them  to  silence,  she  arose  and  advanced  to  meet  us, 
and  in  a  voice,  whose  melodious  sweetness  I  can 
compare  to  none  I  have  ever  heard,  unless  it  is 
yours,  my  Pauline,  she  said,  in  good  French, 

"  'Welcome,  brothers,  be  seated.' 

"If  we  had  been  charmed  by  her  beauty,  we 
were  doubly  so 'by  her  speech,  which,  independent 
of  the  beautiful  mouth  and  teeth  it  discovered,  was 
so  warm,  cordial,  and  welcome. 

"I  was  only  a  lad,  and  a  green  one,  and  you 
know  the  taciturnity  of  Indians.  Our  guide  stood 
stone  still,  and  the  others  of  our  party  were  posi 
tively  overawed  by  the  beauty  and  majesty  of  the 
lovely  vision  before  us.  1  made  out  to  stammer 
the  Baron's  name.  She  readily  comprehended,  and 
saying,  '  You  would  have  speech  of  the  Baron,' 
glided  into  the  next  room.  In  a  moment  a  servant 
came  to  say,  '  The  Bar.cn  would  see  us  in  his  study  ;' 
and  we  were  ushered  into  a  small  panelled  room, 
where,  seated  at  a  round  pine  table  in  the  centre, 
sat  the  object  of  our  journey,  with  a  Latin  and 
Greek  lexicon  before  him,  from  which,  it  appeared, 
he  was  instructing  his  son,  a  youth  who  sat  beside 
him.  Heaps  of  papers,  parchments,  and  books  were 
arranged  on  the  shelves  around  him.  There  was  a 
sad,  care-worn  look  about  the  majestic  personage 
who  now  rose  to  welcome  us,  and  with  frank  polite 
ness  offered  a  hand  to  each.  I  never  had  the  plea 
sure  to  see  a  king  or  an  emperor,  but  I  should  say 
he  must  have  looked  something  like  one.  I  never 
saw  him  only  on  that  occasion,  but  topk  good  ob 
servation  of  him  then,  and  should  give  it  as  my 
opinion,  that  no  disappointment  or  disgust  of  the 
world  occasioned  his  retreat,  but  simply  the  holy 
desire  to  do  good  to  the  benighted  race  among 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  99 

whom,  by  the  providence  of  God,  he  had  been 
placed. 

"  He  had  an  altar  in  his  house,  and  a  missionary 
priest.  It  was  on  the  occasion  of  the  evening  sac 
rifice  that  we  again  saw,  and  for  the  last  time,  the 
lovely  Therese.  for  by  that  name  she  had  been 
baptized  previous  to  her  marriage. 

"  I  regret  to  say  that  this  beautiful  and  intelli 
gent  creature  was  destined  to  pass  only  a  few  short 
years  on  earth  after  I  saw  her.  Her  looks  will 
never  be  forgotten  by  me,  nor  the  dove-like  expres 
sion  of  those  lustrous  eyes,  when  bent  on  her  lord 
or  her  children. 

"  '  And  what  of  the  Baron  ? '  asked  the  younger 
Louis. 

"  Well,  of  him,"  continued  the  old  man,  "I  am 
going  to  speak.  He  received  the  communication 
we  brought  him  with  a  look  of  mournful  interest, 
and  folding  the  paper,  after  he  had  perused  it.  said, 

"  l  It  is  no  more  than  I  expected.  English  cu 
pidity  has  determined  to  grasp  that  ill-fated  region, 
and  that  none  of  us  shall  ever  rest  upon  American 
ground. 

"  1 1  am  informed  here  that  it  is  said  to  be  by 
my  encouragement  and  interference,  the  different 
tribes  of  Indians  in  this  and  all  New  Prance  are 
again  committing  depredations  on  the  scattered  and 
unarmed  inhabitants  of  yonder  region,'  pointing 
across  the  Penobscot.  '  But  the  great  God  of  heav 
en  and  earth  knows  I  am  innocent.  I  have  stood 
between  them  and  the  English,  when  danger  men 
aced,  expecting  it  as  an  even  chance  which  shed 
my  blood  first,  the  jealous  Briton  or  the  outraged 
red  man.  No,  their  own  neglect  to  observe  the 
conditions  made  in  their  treaties  with  the  Indians. 
has  occasioned  this.  'Nor  can  I,  though  elected 
chief  sachem  of  a  powerful  tribe,  prevent  individu- 


100  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

al  aggressions,  while  the  English  continue  faithless 
to  their  contracts. 

"  '  Thinkest  thou,'  said  the  Baron,  rising  and 
pacing  the  floor  as  he  warmed  with  his  subject, 
( thinkest  thou,  that  yon  fair  territory  (pointing 
westward)  was  bartered  for  nothing  ?  Thinkest 
thou,  that  the  poor  pittance  our  red  brethren  con 
sented  to  receive  for  their  lands,  is  to  be  thus 
shamefully  withholden,  and  they  to  retreat  and  sit 
down  tamely  by  the  injury  ?  By  heaven  !  they 
cannot  expect  it.  They  ought  not  to.  Where  are 
the  supplies,  the  ammunition,  &c.,  long  looked  forr 
often  asked  for,  and  still  denied  ?  Where  are  the 
trading-houses,  which  were  stipulated  for  long  ago  ? 
Never  erected. 

"  '  Yet  I  have  never  counselled  war,'  said  he, 
after  a  pause,  'still  less  would  I  counsel  the  murder 
of  innocent  women  and  children.  I  have  reasoned 
with  the  tribes,  and  inculcated  patience  and  for 
bearance  until  my  conscience  absolutely  flew  ii, 
face.  The  English  know  what  savages  are.  They 
know.that  the  red  man  does  not  war  like  the  white. 
They  know  their  fierce  passions,  when  roused,  are 
not  easily  allayed — that  their  rage  is  like  the  over 
whelming  torrent,  which,  with  undistinguishing 
fury,  sweeps  every  thing  that  comes  in  its  way 
when  once  it  has  burst  its  bounds.  And  yet  they 
seek  to  provoke  them.  It  is  their  policy  to  exaspe 
rate  them  to  acts  of  violence,  that  they  may  have 
an  excuse  to  cut  them  off. 

" '  Brethren,'  said  he,  turning  to  us  and  waving 
his  hand,  '  a  few  more  circling  years,  and  from 
yonder,  where  the  sun  rises,  even  to  the  place  of 
his  going  down,  there  will  not  be  even  so  much  as 
a  remnant  left  of  these  unfortunate  and  hunted 
people.  Their  own  fierce  passions,  too,  mistaken 
beings  !  will  furnish  their  enemies  with  the  pretext 
to  destroy  and  exterminate  them.' 


THE    NEUTRAL    rfcS.VCa.  101 

11  Oh,  it  was  a  fearful  thing,"  said  Gasper,  "  to 
see  a  great  mind  so  wrought  upon.  Even  in  his 
resentment,  the  terrible  expression  of  wrath  that 
sat  upon  his  brow  did  not  prevent  one  from  feeling 
that  they  stood  in  the  presence  of  SL  being  of  a 
superior  order.  And  for  myself  I  must  say.  1  felt 
that  kind  of  quaking  I  never  felt  in  the  presence  of 
the  most  powerful  of  our  foes.  But  at  length  the 
storm,  in  his  bosom  seemed  to  subside,  and  sitting 
quietly  down,  he  discussed  the  subject  we  came 
upon. 

"  *  I  should  be  grieved,  my  friends,  if  you  in  that 
remote  region,'  said  he,  'should  be  sufferers  in  this 
business  again  ;  but  should  it  be  the  case,  and  your 
possessions  be  again  invaded,  I  pledge  myself,  in 
the  hour  of  extremity,  to  come  to  your  relief,  with 
as  many  of  my  red  friends  as  I  can  collect.  In  the 
mean  time  I  will  confer  with  the  Governor  of  Can 
ada,  and  see  if  you  cannot  be  placed  in  a  state  of 
defence.  It  is  scarcely  possible  there  should  be 
much  of  a  force  sent  against  you,  without  our  being 
apprized  of  it,  and  should  we,  be  assured  we  will 
get  there,  before  them.'  * 

*  The  English,  whose  policy  it  was  to  represent  the  Baron  as  a 
kind  of  bugbear  at  that  time,  asserted  that  he  took  four  or  five 
wives  at  the  same  time,  and  lived  with  them  promiscuously.  And 
I  am  astonished  that  my  friend  Mr.  Williamson,  author  of  the 
History  of  Maine,  should  credit  such  an  assertion,  though  he  is 
candid  enough  to  state  that  the  story  was  disproved  by  the  Abbe 
Reynal,  and  La  Hontan,  who  says  in  his  work,  (page  223.)  that 
"  Castine  never  changed  his  wife,  to  convince  the  savages  that 
God  does  not  like  inconstant  folks."  One  fact  should  set  this 
matter  at  rest.  Baron  Vincent  De  St.  Castine  had  immense  pos 
sessions  in  France,  and  many  connexions  there,  and  his  son  by  the 
daughter  of  Madocawando,  sagamore  or  chief  of  the  Tarratine 
tribe,  had  no  difficulty  in  establishing  his  claim  to  his  father's  title 
and  estates.  He  must,  too,  have  been  united  to  this  woman  by  the 
rites  of  the  Catholic  Church,  to  make  his  claim  good.  It  was 
known  that  he  usually  had  a  missionary  of  that  church  in  his 
house..  Modocawando,  the  sagamore,  lived  to  the  year  1698.  The 
authority  of  the  Baron  La  Hontan,  who  was  a  personal  friend  of 
Castine,  ought  to  be  conclusive.  From  the  year  1683  to  1696, 
9* 


102  THL  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

"  Alas  !  alas !  he  did  not  foresee  the  overwhelm 
ing  deluge  that  was  so  soon  to  burst  upon  us.  The 
attack  of  the  English  was  too  sudden  and  well 
concerted  to  admit  of  defence  ;  and  though  the 
gallant  Baron  did  arm  in  our  behalf,  and  at  the 
mouth  of  the  St.  Johns  execute  signal  vengeance 
on  our  foes,  his  arm,  powerful  as  it  was,  could  not 
work  our  deliverance. 

"  'And  what  finally  became  of  that  extraordinary 
family  ? '  asked  Louis. 

"  He,  the  first  Baron,  died,  I  believe,  on  the  pe 
ninsular,  after  a  residence  of  thirty  years,  excepting 
his  occasional  visits  to  old  Prance.  From  1667  to 
1722,  it  was  the  residence  of  the  Castine  family. 
In  that  year,  Castine  the  younger  went  to  Prance 
to  take  possession  of  his  paternal  estates,  and  re 
turned  no  more.  It  is  now  thirty-three  years  since 
the  Neutral  French  lost  their  best  and  surest  earthly 
friend,  in  Castine  the  younger — the  Canadians  a 
mediator,  the  savages  a  connecting  link  between 
them  and  civilization,  and  the  English  a  check,  a 
man  whom  they  both  feared  and  hated. 

"  His  immense  wealth,  beauty  of  person,  and 
courtly  manners,  combined  with  sweetness  and 
gentleness,  high  sense  of  honor  and  devoted  piety, 
were  the  topics  of  discourse,  and  he  was  univer- 


he  was  Lord  Lieutenant  of  the  French  colony  at  Placcntia,  in 
Newfoundland,  and  published  a  series  of  letters  entitled  "  New 
Voyages  to  North  America."  He  was  familiar  with  all  the  eastern 
region,  and  gives  a  history  of  the  different  tribes  of  Indians  be- 
tween  Newfoundland  and  Penobscot.  This  work,  which  would  be 
found  infinitely  entertaining  to  the  antiquarian,  we  suspect  may  be 
procured  at  some  of  the  antiquarian  bookstores  in  Boston.  It  is 
in  French.  The  Tarratine  tribes  of  Indians  have  yet  several  vil 
lages  in  the  eastern  part  of  Maine.  In  the  war  of  the  Revolution 
they  were  neutrals.  Mr.  Williamson  remarks  of  the  Baron  Cas 
tine,  "  that  he  was  a  liberal  Catholic,  though  devout  and  punctili 
ous  in  his  religious  observances,"  which,  we  should  suppose,  rather 
militated  against  his  having  four  or  five  wives  at  a  time.  Also, 
that  "  he  was  a  man  of  fascinating  address  and  manners." 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  103 

sally  admired,  both  by  friends  and  foes.  When  he 
appeared  before  the  authorities  of  the  English  King 
at  Boston,  where  he  was  most  unrighteously  carried 
a  prisoner,  (being  seized  at  his  peaceful  fireside  and 
dragged  there  for  examination,)  his  deportment  was 
such  as  called  forth  loud  and  repeated  bursts  of 
admiration. 

"  He  had  been  taken  in  1713,  for  appearing  at  a 
conference  of  the  Indians  held  on  Arrowsic  Island, 
wherein  he  represented  his  tribe  as  an  '  Independent 
People.'  The  great  difficulty  of  getting  along  with 
the  Indians  seems  to  be  the  determination  of  the 
English  to  consider  them  as  subjects  of  their  King, 
whereas  they  never  acknowledged  allegiance  to  any 
king,  and  cannot,  therefore,  with  propriety,  be  de 
nominated  rebels. 

"  When  Castine  the  younger  was  brought  to  the 
bar  in  Boston,  an  immense  concourse  of  people 
thronged  to  see  him ;  and  if  they  supposed  he  was 
going  to  shrink  before  the  committee  appointed  for 
his  examination,  who,  with  most  imposing  aspect, 
were  placed  in  the  seat  of  justice,  they  were  mis 
taken. 

"  The  prisoner  evinced  his  independence  of  char 
acter  even  by  the  dress  he  wore  on  that  occasion, 
which  was  a  splendid  French  uniform,  displaying 
not  only  the  high  office  he  held  under  his  Christian 
Majesty,  but  the  elegance  of  his  person  and  deport 
ment  to  the  highest  advantage.  On  gaining  the 
position  designated  by  his  judges,  a  very  stately 
and  dignified  bow  from  the  Baron  informed  them 
that  he  was  ready  to  attend  to  whatever  they  had 
to  say.  The  interrogatories  were  put  in  the  most 
singular  and  abrupt  manner,  and  were  precisely 
these,  as  several  of  our  people  who  were  present, 
can  even  now  recollect.  After  stating  his  presence 
at  the  conference  of  the  tribes, 

"  l  Baron  Castine,  we  demand,'  &c. 


104  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

"  '  Why  did  you  attend  this  conference  ? ' 
"  i  In  what  capacity  did  you  attend  ? ' 
"  l  Did  not  Vandrieul,  the  Governor  of  Canada, 
send  you  there  ?  ' 

11  i  What  means  your  French  uniform  ? ' 
11  To  this  rude  and  authoritative  inquisition,  Cas- 
tine  replied,  with  dignity, 

"  '  I  have  always  lived  with  my  kindred  and  peo 
ple.  .  My  mother  was  one  of  them,  and  I  could  not 
fail  to  attend  a  meeting  where  their  interests  were 
concerned  ;  but  I  received  no  orders  from  Vandrieul 
to  attend.  My  habit  is  only  a  uniform  suited  to 
my  birth  and  condition,  for  I  have  the  honor  of 
being  an  officer  under  the  King  of  France.' 

"  Notwithstanding  the  honesty  and  magnanimity 
of  this  reply,  they  had  the  baseness  to  imprison  him 
five  months  in  Boston.  But  at  length,  partly 
through  dread  of  the  Indians,  and  partly  because 
they  did  not  know  how  fo  designate  his  offence, 
and  were  disgracing  and  making  themselves  un 
popular,  they  set  him  at  liberty. 

"  It  is  supposed,  that  the  increasing  miseries  and 
degradation  of  his  tribe,  and  the  utter  impossibility 
of  remedying  their  condition,  discouraged  the  Baron 
from  ever  returning  to  them.  The  last  I  ever  heard 
of  him  he  was  in  France,  in  the  enjoyment  of  a 
princely  fortune,  and,  I  doubt  not,  of  all  the  esteem 
that  his  exemplary  character  and  shining  virtues 
merited.  Of  the  two  daughters  I  have  only  casu 
ally  learnt  that  they  were  married  to  highly  respec 
table  men,  but  I  do  not  know  where  they  went. 
The  Baron  was  said  to  be  the  only  one  who  pos 
sessed  the  mother's  beauty." 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  105 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  To-day  there  is  a  change  within  me, 

There  is  a  weight  upon  my  brow." —  HALLECK. 

THE  little  party  at  the  farm  had  scarcely  time  to 
thank  Gasper  for  his  very  interesting  account  of 
the  Baroirs  family,  when  they  were  aroused  by  an 
exclamation  of  surprise  from  one  of  the  younger 
lads,  who,  sitting  opposite  the  window  that  looked 
towards  the  broad  sheet  of  water  described  in  a 
former  page,  and  instantaneously  the  whole  family 
rushed  to  the  windows  to  discover  the  cause. 

A  slight  haze  in  the  atmosphere,  in  the  early  part 
of  the  evening,  had  rolled  off  before  the  rising 
moon,  which  now,  being  at  the  full,  shone  in  full 
splendor,  and  revealed  every  object  on  the  transpa 
rent  waters  almost  as  plain  as  at  noonday.  In  this 
capacious  basin  a  number  of  sail  were  now  descried, 
that  had  just  made  their  appearance,  some  of  them 
were  even  within  sail,  and  most  of  them,  though 
not  ships  of  war,  appeared  of  very  considerable 
burden.  The  young  men  observed  that  their  ma 
noeuvring  was  very  fine  ;  but,  although  their  num 
ber  and  very  unusual  appearance  excited  some 
wonder,  yet  it  was  unmingled  with  any  thing  of 
fear  or  suspicion  in  the  younger  part  of  the  family. 
The  wife  of  the  absent  Louis  sighed  deeply,  how 
ever,  arid  old  Gasper  uttered  a  deep  groan  when 
their  appearance  was  announced.  It  was  not  un 
noticed,  and  yet  what  could  they  suspect  ?  A  quiet, 
inoffensive  yeomanry,  always  submissive  to  the 
requirements  of  their  taskmasters,  and  though  some 
what  situated  like  the  Israelites  in  Egypt,  yet  ex 
hibiting  no  signs  of  impatience  or  resentment. 

Still,  there  was  an  indefinable  feeling  of  dread, 
a  presentiment  of  evil,  partly  occasioned,  no  doubt, 
by  the  agitating  announcement  of  the  Indian,  that 


106  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

seemed  to  drive  away  every  thing  like  drowsiness  ; 
and  it  was  not  until  a  late  hour  for  them  that  they 
retired  to  rest.  They  slept  at  length,  and  slept 
soundly.  Oh  !  how  soundly  innocence  can  sleep. 
Daniel  slept  in  the  lions'  den  ;  Joseph  slept  quietly 
in  his  dungeon  ;  and  the  Son  of  Man  slept  while 
the  raging  ocean  was  lashed  into  foam  by  the  fury 
of  the  tempest,  and  his  affrighted  disciples  wer^ 
calling  on  him  to  save  them. 

They  slept  ;  but  what  frightful  sound  was  that 
which  awoke  the  slumbering  inmates  of  the  farm, 
after  a  few  brief  moments  of  slumber  ?  What 
horseman's  swift  steed  spurns  the  ground  as  he 
comes  foaming  over  the  hill  ?  and  what  thundering 
knock  reverberates  through  the  most  distant  part 
of  the  building,  causing  the  terrified  inhabitants  to 
start  from  their  beds  ?  They  lost  no  time,  how 
ever,  in  opening  the  door,  upon  which  the  tremen 
dous  blows  from  a  loaded  whip  continued  to  be 
plied  during  the  few  moments  it  took  to  draw  on  a 
garment,  and  draw  the  bolt. 

"  See  that  you  come  without  fail,"  said  a  tall, 
ferocious  looking  fellow,  in  regimentals,  as  he  threw 
in  a  paper,  and  disappeared  on  the  track  to  the  next 
farm.  The  paper,  when  carried  to  the  light,  proved 
to  be  the  Governor's  proclamation,  (Governor  Law 
rence,)  signed,  however,  by  the  commanding  officer 
on  the  station,  Colonel  Winslow.  (A  copy  of  this 
famous  proclamation  is  still  extant,  in  the  hand 
writing  of  Colonel  Winslow,  and  is  as  follows  :) 

"  To  the  inhabitants  of  the  district  of  Grand 
Free,  Minas,  River  Cunard,  &c.,  as  well  ancient  as 
young  men  and  lads. 

"  Whereas,  his  excellency  the  Governor  has  in 
structed  us  of  his  late  resolution,  respecting  the 
matter  proposed  to  the  inhabitants,  and  has  ordered 
us  to  communicate  the  same  in  person,  his  excel 
lency  being  desirous  that  each  should  be  satisfied 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  107 

of  his  Majesty's  intentions,  which  he  has  also  or 
dered  us  to  communicate  to  you,  such  as  they  have 
been  given  to  him.  We  therefore  order  and  enjoin, 
by  these  presents,  all  of  the  inhabitants,  as  well  of 
the  abovenamed  districts,  both  old  and  young  men, 
as  well  as  the  lads  of  ten  years  of  age,  to  attend  at 
the  church  at  Grand  Free,  on  Friday,  the  fifth  in 
stant,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  that  we 
may  impart  to  them  what  we  have  to  communicate, 
declaring  that  no  excuse  will  be  admitted,  on  any 
pretext  whatever,  on  pain  of  forfeiting  goods  and 
chattels,  in  default  of  real  estate. 

"  Given  at  Grand  Free,  this  second  of  September, 
1755,  and  twenty-ninth  year  of  his  Majesty's  reign." 

"  Did  mortal  ever  hear  such  a  thing  as  this  ? " 
exclaimed  Louis,  after  reading  the  paper.  "  There 
is  not  the  least  intimation  of  the  nature  of  the 
business,  from  beginning  to  end,  nor  any  clue  to 
guide  one  out  of  the  labyrinth  of  doubts,  guesses, 
arid  surmises  it  is  calculated  to  produce.  Most 
probably,  however,  it  is  some  new  effort  to  swear 
us  unreservedly." 

It  seems  incredible,  that  during  the  three  days 
that  intervened  before  the  meeting,  nothing  of  the 
business  intended  should  have  leaked  out.  We 
recollect  distinctly,  that  in  the  letter  of  instructions 
to  Colonel  Winslow,  he  was  particularly  cautioned 
"  not  to  let  any  of  the  soldiers  have  the  least  com 
munication  with  any  of  the  inhabitants  during  the 
intervening  time,  lest  some  discoveries  might  be 
made."  That  the  real  truth  was  far  from  suspect 
ed  is  certain,  and  yet  there  were  some  who  antici 
pated  some  unknown  and  dreadful  evil,  and  several 
whole  families  escaped  to  Chignecto,  from  whence 
a  large  company  embarked  for  Q/uebec.  It  seems, 
that  in  anticipation  of  some  evil,  the  nature  of  which 
they  could  not  have  understood,  the  Governor  of 
Canada  had  despatched  several  vessels  to  cruise  on 


108  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

the  coast,  and  "  take  off  as  many  of  the  families  as 
wanted  to  come  away,  arid  they  could  possibly 
bring."  Some  other  of  the  families  fled  to  the 
woods,  and  hid  themselves.  Yet  \\rere  their  terrors 
derided  by  the  major  part,  who  at  once  conceived 
the.  idea  they  were  to  be  coerced  to  enrol  them 
selves  in  the  corps  organizing  to  repel  (as  they  said) 
the  French  and  Indians.  This  they  stoutly  resolv 
ed  not  to  do,  come  what  might ;  and  much  of  the 
intervening  time  was  spent  in  praying  for  strength 
to  enable  them  to  persevere  in  their  resolutions,  and 
rather  to  pay  the  penalty,  whatever  it  might  be, 
than  do  any  thing  so  contrary  to  the  dictates  of 
their  conscience.  Others,  again,  thought  it  was 
only  a  subterfuge  to  extort  a  penalty  for  not  taking 
the  oath  of  allegiance  in  the  unqualified  form  in 
which  they  wished  to  administer  it.  And  even 
when  the  day  came,  it  found  many  vacillating  in 
their  opinions  ;  and  of  the  thousands  of  inhabitants 
in  that  district,  only  four  hundred  and  fifty  able- 
bodied  men  assembled. 

In  the  mean  time,  Louis  the  younger  had  con 
veyed  his  invalid  wife,  the  fair  Gabriella,  to  his 
secluded  home,  with  her  two  children,  thinking  if 
any  thing  happened  she  would  be  safer  taere,  and 
more  out  of  the  way  of  excitement,  which  her 
gentle  frame  could  ill  endure. 

To  the  great  comfort  of  our  family  at  the  farm, 
Louis  the  elder  returned  home  the  night  preceding 
the  day  of  meeting.  Dreadful  had  been  the  feel 
ings  of  his  faithful  partner  and  his  children  at  his 
long  absence.  They  could  in  no  wise  account  for 
it,  nor  did  he  satisfactorily  explain  it  on  his  return  ; 
for  he  dared  not  tell  them  he  had  been  round  to 
some  distant  settlements,  to  try  and  ascertain  the 
extent  of  their  courage  should  the  odious  oath  be 
forced  upon  them,  which  he  anticipated,  and  which 
was,  in  truth,  the  extent  of  his  and  their  fears. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  109 

Dispirited  and  disappointed,  he  had  returned  in 
despondency.  Alas  !  who  could  have  the  courage 
to  war  without  weapons  ?  They  had  all  quietly 
given  up  their  arms,  and  "  the  very  manner  in 
which  this  was  done,"  says  an  English  historian, 
"  should  have  been  convincing  of  their  sincerity 
and  peaceable  intentions." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

14  It  is  not  so  !  Thou  hast  misspoke,  misheard  ; 
It  cannot  be.     Thou  didst,  but  say  'tis  so. 
I  have  a  king's  oath  to  the  contrary." 

THE  fifth  of  September  at  length  came  ;  a  day 
big  with  the  fate  of  the  hunted  and  deceived  Aca- 
dians :  a  day,  alas !  of  mourning  and  of  woe. 
When  the  time  came  to  attend  the  meeting,  there 
was  a  visible  gloom  on  the  faces  of  the  young  men ; 
and  as  party  after  party  of  their  youthful  comrades 
and  friends  came  on,  still  the  male  inhabitants  of 
the  farm  would  excuse  themselves  from  joining 
them,  until  it  was  no  longer  to  be  avoided. 

When  about  to  go,  Louis  the  elder  turned  round 
and  asked  his  venerable  father's  blessing,  and  his 
example  was  followed  by  his  sons.  With  a  hand 
that  trembled  more  than  ordinarily,  the  venerable 
man  successively  blessed  them  ;  and  then,  sinking 
on  his  knees,  listened  to  the  last  sound  of  their 
retreating  footsteps.  We  leave  the  farm,  and  for 
bear  to  describe  the  trembling  anxiety  with  which 
they  listened  to  every  sound  until  nightfall,  and  the 
heroic  bearing  of  young  Pauline,  whose  courage 
seemed  to  rise  as  theirs  fell,  and  who  zealously  ex 
erted  herself  to  support  the  sinking  spirits  of  the 
in 


110  THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH. 

family,  and  do  away  all  painful  surmises  they  were 
disposed  to  indulge. 

The  church  or  chapel,  where  they  were  to  as 
semble,  was  situated  about  a  mile  from  the  shore, 
and  rather  over  two  from  the  farm.  It  was  not  an 
expensive  building,  but  sufficiently  large,  and  had 
been  erected  only  since  the  time  when  their  former 
one  had  been  hewn  down  by  some  fanatics  in  their 
holy  zeal,  at  a  former  irruption  of  the  Goths  from 
New  England.  The  Catholics  did  not  regard  the 
destruction  of  their  property  as  any  evidence  of  the 
superior  sanctity  of  the  Abners  and  Joabs  who  ac 
complished  it ;  and  the  consequence  was,  as  might 
well  be  expected,  the  followers  of  his  holiness  were 
more  than  ever  confirmed  in  their  papistical  errors, 
and  where  there  was  one  image  or  picture  in  the 
old  church,  there  were  at  least  a  dozen  in  the  new 
one  :  arid  though,  for  the  most  part,  they  had  not 
violated  the  command  against  making  the  likeness 
of  any  thing  in  heaven,  or  on  earth,  or  under  the 
earth,  yet  was  the  present  church  decorated  with  a 
full  complement  of  saints  in  regimentals,  angels  in 
periwigs,  and  madonnas  in  brocades — and  into  this 
(to  them)  sacred  place,  the  rude  foot  of  heretical 
soldiery  was  now  for  the  first  time  introduced. 

As  none  of  the  representatives  of  the  potentates 
of  the  earth  were  accustomed  in  those  days  to 
appear  without  a  long  retinue  of  military  in  attend 
ance,  it  excited  no  surprise,  even  in  this  simple 
people,  that  the  new  commanding  officer  (Colonel 
Winslow)  should  be  drawn  up  at  the  door  between 
double  files  of  soldiers.  They  supposed  his  station 
called  for  such  a  display  ;  few  believed  any  forcible 
measures  would  be  taken  to  extort  the  oath  they 
supposed  about  to  be  proffered,  Four  hundred  and 
eighteen  persons  had  now  arrived,  and  finding  no 
more  appeared  to  be  coming,  the  commander-in- 
chief,  having  a  guard  outside,  advanced  himself 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  Ill 

with  his  officers  (the  soldiers  lining  the  wall)  into 
the  middle  of  the  building,  where,  the  congregation 
in  breathless  silence  awaiting  his  communication, 
he  delivered  the  following  address  :  (See  Hallibur- 
ton's  History  of  Nova  Scotia,  vol.  i.  p.  176.) 

"  Gentlemen — I  have  received  from  Governor 
Lawrence  the  King's  commission,  which  I  have  in 
my  hand,  and  by  his  orders  you  are  convened  to 
gether,  to  manifest  to  you  his  Majesty's  final  reso 
lution  to  the  French  inhabitants  of  this  his  Majesty's 
province  of  Nova  Scotia,  who,  for  more  than  half 
a  century,  have  had  more  indulgence  granted  them 
than  any  of  his  subjects  in  any  part  of  his  domin 
ions.  What  use  you  have  made  of  it,  you  best 
know.  The  part  of  duty  I  am  now  upon  is  very 
disagreeable  to  my  natural  make  and  temper,  as  I 
know  it  must  be  grievous  to  you  who  are  of  the 
same  species.  But  it  is  not  my  business  to  ani^ 
fnadvert,  but  to  obey  orders,  and  his  Majesty's 
orders  are — That  your  lands  and  tenements,  cattle 
of  all  kinds,  and  live  stock  of  all  sorts,  are  forfeited 
to  the  crown,  with  all  other  of  your  effects,  saving 
your  money  (he  knew  that  they  had  none)  and 
household  goods,  and  you  yourselves  are  to  be  re 
moved  from  this  province. 

"  Thus  it  is  peremptorily  his  Majesty's  orders, 
that  the  whole  French  inhabitants  of  these  districts 
be  removed,  and  I  am,  through  his  Majesty's  good 
ness,  directed  to  allow  you  liberty  to  carry  off  your 
money  and  as  many  household  goods  as  you  can, 
without  discommoding  the  vessels  you  go  in.  I 
shall  do  every  thing  in  my  power  that  you  are  not 
molested  in  carrying  off  your  goods,  and  also  that 
whole  families  shall  go  in  the  same  vessels,  and 
hope,  in  whatever  part  of  the  world  you  fall,  you 
may  be  faithful  subjects  and  a  peaceable. and  happy 
people. 

"I  must  also  inform  you  that  it  is  his  Majesty's 


112  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

will  and  pleasure  that  you  remain  under  the  direc 
tion  and  inspection  of  the  troops  I  have  the  honor 
to  command,  and  I  now  delare  you  the  King's 
prisoners" 

Had  a  thunderbolt  fallen  from  heaven,  it  could 
not  have  paralyzed  the  hearers  more  than  this  ad 
dress.  No  language  could  do  justice  to  the  aston 
ishment  of  the  enraged  and  entrapped  Acadians. 
At  first  they  looked  at  each  other  with  open  mouths, 
as  if  not  comprehending,  or  doubting  the  purport 
of  the  address.  At  length  Louis  the  elder  ventured 
to  ask,  "  If  they  were  to  be  carried  to  French 
ports  ?  "  and  was  answered,  "  No  ;  his  Majesty  did 
not  design  to  strengthen  his  enemies  with  such  an 
aid."  This  was  said  with  a  sneer.  Louis  turned 
upon  his  heel  and  folded  his  arms,  while  a  scornful 
smile  curled  his  lip,  awaiting  in  silence  what  should 
come  next.  Nor  would  he  condescend  to  look 
round,  when  one  of  those  he  termed  the  "  mean- 
opITIteu  61  nis  orethren,"  asked,  in  a  tone  of  g.,.at 
humility,  "  How  they  had  been  so  unfortunate  as 
to  offend  his  Majesty?"  His  blood  boiled  when 
he  perceived  this  question  treated  with  rudeness, 
for  no  answer  was  vouchsafed. 

Several  of  them,  either  from  policy  to  deprecate 
the  seveijity  of  the  commander,  or  from  real  regret, 
that  their  good  feelings  should  not  have  been  appre 
ciated,  began  to  lament  aloud  "they  should  have 
been  so  unfortunate  ; "  and  protested  that  "  they 
had  never  knowingly  violated  any  of  the  laws  of 
the  English  ;  that  it  had  been  a  matter  of  indiffer 
ence  to  them,  so  long  as  they  were  protected  in  their 
rights,  which  Power  they  were  protected  by." 
(Winslow's  Narrative.) 

It  is  probable  the  unfortunate  termination  of  the 
sentence  rather  aroused  the  ire  of  the  commander, 
for  well  he  knew  their  rights  had  not  been  protect 
ed  ;  full  well  he  knew,  the  Acadians  had  not  only 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  113 

been  refused  justice  in  their  courts,  but  justice  in 
all  other  respects,  to  say  nothing  of  their  disfran- 
chisement  and  various  political  privations.  He 
miarht  not  have  known  of  all  the  individual  cases 

D 

of  wrong.  He  might  not  have  known,  that  if  an 
English  neighbor  wanted  an  ox  or  an  ass,  he  had 
only  to  seize  it,  and  made  no  scruple  of  doing  so, 
and  there  was  no  relief  for  the  sufferer  but  the 
Christian  one  of  patience  ;  for  to  what  could  they 
resort  ?  Not  to  law,  of  course  ;  and  to  personal 
chastisement,  would  have  brought  swift  destruc 
tion. 

And  here  we  must  make  a  digression,  for  which 
we  beg  the  indulgence  of  our  readers.  It  was 
probable  this  very  grievance,  arbitrary  and  tyranni 
cal  as  it  was,  was  one  cause,  and  not  a  lesser  one, 
of  the  former  prosperity  of  the  Acadians  in  amass 
ing  property,  and  preserving  the  social  relations  of 
life  unimpaired.  If  they  lost  a  few  of  their  flocks, 
or  suffered  any  other  loss  at  any  time  by  violence, 
they  kept  steadily  on,  and  raised  more,  instead  of 
attending  courts,  and  losing  time,  money,  and  pa 
tience  for  an  uncertain  remuneration.  Their  man 
ners,  too,  were  not  corrupted  by  associations  they 
could  not  have  avoided.  To  return  to  our  narrative. 

We  observed  that  the  ire  of  the  commander 
seemed  somewhat  roused  by  the  last  appeal,  humble 
as  it  was  in  language  ;  and  although  he  was  one  of 
those  of  whom  the  poet  says,  "  Why,  I  can  smile, 
and  murder  while  I  smile,"  yet,  being  possessed  of 
almost  unlimited  power  in  the  present  instance,  and 
feeling  that  the  favor  of  the  poor  trembling  being 
before  him  was  not  worth  taking  very  particular 
pains  for,  was  not  quite  as  lavish  of  his  smiles  as 
though  he  had  been  in  a  drawing-room,  and  he 
answered,  in  rather  a  cavelier-like  manner, 

"  That  he  was  not  there  to  reason  with  them, 
but  to  command,  and  see  that  they  obeyed  orders.'7 
10* 


114  THE    NEUTRAL   FREN7CH. 

By  this  time  the  ire  of  Louis  had  attained  a  cer 
tain  height,  that  threatened  bad  consequences,  and, 
as  he  afterwards  said,  "  if  he  had  not  given  way  to 
it,  it  must  have  choked  him."  His  face  was  scar 
let,  arid  his  laboring  chest  heaved  with  the  efforts 
he  made  to  keep  it  down.  But  this  last  remark  of 
the  commander,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
uttered,  was  too  much  for  him,  and  turning  fiercely 
to  him,  he  said, 

"  And  who  are  you,  that  are  bloodhound  enough 
to  engage  in  this  business  ?  From  what  den  of 
incarnate  fiends  were  you  let  loose  ?  Of  all  the 
myrmidons  of  a  tyrant  in  this  region,  could  not 
one  be  found  to  do  his  bidding  ?  " 

"  Silence,  there  !  Guards,  seize  him  !  "  vocifera 
ted  the  commander,  and  the  arms  of  the  unfortu 
nate  and  enraged  Louis  were  immediately  pinioned 
to  his  side,  amid  the  exclamations  of  some  dozen 
voices  of  his  friends,  which  were  quickly  stilled, 
however,  by  the  presentation  of  the  soldiers'  arms, 
and  the1  loud  voice  of  the  commander  ordering  them 
to  "  fire  right  into  the  midst,  if  another  word  was 
spoken."  Louis  was  bound  hand  arid  foot,  and 
carried,  without  opposition  or  any  attempt  at  resist 
ance,  to  the  guard-house. 

The  tumult  now  subsided,  and  the  people  judg 
ing  that  this  at  least  was  not  the  time  to  make  any 
attempt  at  softening  the  hearts  of  their  persecutors, 
were  slowly  making  their  way  to  the  door,  in  order 
to  give  the  earliest  notice  to  their  families,  and  to 
concert  with  them  how  to  get  along  under  this 
cruel  sentence.  With  these  feelings  and  views 
shared  in  common,  but  unexpressed,  they  went 
forward  in  a  body,  as  soon  as  Colonel  Winslow  and 
his  staff  had  passed  out,  (which  they  did  without 
much  ceremony  immediately  after  the  seizure  of 
Louis,)  and  to  their  complete  amazement  were  met 
at  the  entrance  by  soldiers  with  fixed  bayonets.,  who 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  115 

rudely  ordered  them  back,  and  they  were  told, 
l<  that  they  could  riot  leave  the  chapel  as  they  \vere 
the  King's  prisoners,  and  would  be  kept  there  until 
the  vessels  which  were  to  take  them  away  were 
ready  to  receive  them  ;  that  rations  would  be  dealt 
to  them  regularly  ;  but  as  any  other  indulgence 
was  incompatible  with  the  public  safety,  they  must 
not  expect  it ;  and  that  any  symptoms  of  restifness 
would  be  signally  punished  on  the  spot."  (See 
Winslow's  Narrative.) 

The  succeeding  morning  dawned  upon  that  un 
happy  company  without  their  anxious  relatives  even 
knowing  where  they  were.  What  heart-rending 
lamentations,  what  tears,  prayers,  and  exhortations 
to  comfort  from  those  who  felt  it  not,  did  the  long 
watches  of  that  night  witness  !  Alas  !  it  was  a 
night  long  to  be  remembered.  The  lamentations 
of  the  morning  were  nearly  equal  to  those  of  the 
Egyptians  when  they  arose  and  found  "  there  was 
not  a  house  where  there  was  not  one  dead."  But 
long  and  painful  as  was  that  night  to  the  broken 
hearted  Acadians,  it  was  nothing,  nothing  to  what 
they  were  destined  to  see. 

Our  family  at  the  farm  were  sorely  amazed.  The 
evening  meal  smoked  long  upon  the  board,  await 
ing  their  return.  Often  did  Madam  St.  Pierre,  the 
wife  of  Louis  the  elder,  open  the  door  and  strain 
her  eyes  through  the  darkness  to  discern  the  figure 
of  her  husband — but  no  husband  came.  Often  did 
the  light  step  of  Pauline  tread  the  lawn  in  front  of 
the  house,  or  ascend  the  little  hill  at  its  back,  and 
bending  her  ear  to  the  ground  (a  practice  they  had 
learnt  from  the  Indians)  listen  for  the  footsteps  of 
her  beloved  father  or  brothers.  Alas  !  no  sound, 
save  the  occasional  tread  of  the  cattle  that  were 
browsing  in  the  meadows  below,  the  accidental 
bleat  of  a  sheep,  or  mournful  note  of  the  bird  of 
night  that  sings  in  those  regions,  met  her  ear,  except 


116  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

when  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  brought  the  sound  of 
the  dashing  surge  as  it  swept  on  with  tremendous 
force  from  the  Bay  of  Funday.  The  shuddering 
maiden,  with  her  locks  wet  with  the  thick  dews  of 
night,  would  then  retreat  to  the  house  and  offer  up 
a  prayer  before  the  image  on  the  cross  for  her  absent 
relatives. 

Josephine,  more  timid  and  quiet  in  her  nature,  it 
was  true  dropped  many  tears,  but  exhibited  less  of 
anxiety  than  the  others.  Her  tender  years,  perhaps, 
did  not  admit  of  her  feeling  so  much  ;  and  the  cre 
ative  powers  of  imagination  in  Pauline,  though  it 
opened  rich  sources  of  enjoyment  unknown  to  the 
other,  was  at  other  times  productive  of  unmeasured 
pain.  The  aged  Gasper  said  but  little,  except  the 
utterance  of  the  fervent  ejaculations  which  from 
time  to  time  escaped  his  laboring  breast.  "  God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner !  Enable  me  to  suifer  all 
thy  will !  and  may  that  will  be  done  !  "  were  many 
times  repeated  through  the  night. 

The  morning  at  length  began  to  dawn,  and  the 
female  part  of  the  population  to  pour  abroad.  Long 
before  the  sun  appeared  the  paths  (for  roads  there 
were  none)  began  to  fill  with  women.  It  was  not 
"  here  and  there  a  traveller,"  but  it  was  a  crowd,  a 
perfect  rush  from  all  the  habitations,  far  and  near, 
towards  the  chapel.  The  old  with  crutches,  and 
the  child  of  three  years,  joined  the  procession,  and 
hailing  as  they  passed  the  inhabitants  of  the  farm, 
they  were  joined  by  Madam  St.  Pierre  and  Pauline, 
old  Gasper  being  persuaded  to  remain  with  the  gen 
tle  Josephine. 

Various  were  the  conjectures  of  the  females,  as 
they  threaded  their  way  by  the  nearest  path  to  the 
church,  as  to  what  the  difficulty  might  be.  Some 
of  the  terrified  females  actually  feared  their  friends 
had  all  been  put  to  death  together ;  but  the  most 
generally  received  opinion  was,  that  they  had  been 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  117 

pressed  into  the  service  of  the  English  to  go  and 
fight  the  Indians,  or  to  defend  the  coast  from  some 
threatened  invasion  of  the  French.  Not  knowing 
at  all  whether  they  should  find  a  single  soul  at  the 
church,  they  yet  resolved  to  go  there  first,  as  being 
the  last  place  where  they  could  trace  them. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  I  still  had  hopes  my  latest  hours  to  crown, 
Amid  these  humble  bowers  to  lay  me  down  ; 
I  still  had  hopes,  each  long  vexation  past, 
Here  to  return,  and  die  at  home  at  last." 

JUST  as  the  sad  and  anxious  company  came  to  a 
of  the  wood  from  which  a  distinct  view  of 
the  sacr^c!  ^i^0-6  was  visible,  there  y;as  a  geilCT*! 
halt,  an  indefinable  feeling  of  dread  seemed  to  chain 
their  feet  to  the  spot.  They  dreaded  to  see  that 
holy  place,  the  .sight  of  which  had  hitherto  filled 
them  with  rapture,  when,  arm  in  arm,  they  had 
followed  the  sound  of  the  Sabbath-bell  to  the  house 
of  prayer.  The  halt,  however,  was  momentary,  as 
their  impatience  to  know  the  fate  of  their  friends 
impelled  them  on.  The  sun  was  just  rising,  and 
his  golden  beams  tipt  the  cross  of  the  sacred  edifice, 
and  displayed  to  the  astonished  gaze  of  the  females, 
the  glittering  arms  of  some  hundred  soldiers,  drawn 
up  in  fearful  array  at  its  entrance,  while  from  its 
tower  floated  the  English  colors.  In  short,  it  had  all 
the  appearance  of  a  garrison,  and  many  stopped  ir 
resolute,  and  held  a  council.  It  was  soon  decided 
to  proceed,  and  share  the  fate  of  their  husbands  and 
brothers.  When,  at  length,  seeing  no  manifesta 
tion  of  the  military  to  keep  them  off,  they  walked 


118  THE    NEUTRAL    FREN7CH. 

boldly  up,  and  demanded  to  know  "  where  their 
friends  were  ? " 

"  Within  !  "  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"  And,"  said  Pauline,  springing  forward  and  dis 
closing  her  beautiful  face,  "  what  is  the  meaning  of 
their  detention  ? " 

"  The  meaning,  my  pretty  dear,"  said  a  tall, 
consequential  fellow  in  epaulettes,  from  the  province 
of  Massachusetts  Bay,  who  seemed  to  be  master  of 
ceremonies  during  the  absence  of  the  commander, 
"  the  meaning  is,  you  have  all  got  to  tramp  from 
here.  The  papists  are  to  be  driven  out,  and  the 
country  given  to  the  Lord's  true  people,  or  the 
King's  friends,  I  don't  know  which." 

"Thou  hast  well  distinguished,"  said  the  mai 
den,  "  for  the  Lord,  who  knoweth  them  that  are 
his,  knows  there  are  but  few  among  the  minions  of 
a  tyrant."  Then  perceiving  she  was  not  under 
stood  in  French,  she  added  in  English,  "  WhaJ 
crime  are  they  accused  of  r " 

"Why,"  said  the  soldier,  "I  believe  of  papistry, 
or  treason,  or  some  such  thing,  I  don't  exactly  know 
what.  I  only  know  that  we  came  to  drive  the 
French  out  of  Canada." 

"  Indeed!  "  said  Pauline,  staring  at  his  ignorance 
or  awkward  attempt  at  a  jest,  "  and  where  are  you 
going  to  drive  us  ? "  And  brightening  as  she  caught 
a  new  idea,  "  probably  to  Canada ;  that  must  be 
your  mea — " 

"  Hold  there !  "  said  the  soldier,  by  no  means 
disliking  to  show  off  before  so  pretty  a  girl.  "Not 
so  fast ;  the  King  our  master  knows  better  than 
that.  He  warn't  born  yesterday,  nor  our  Colonel 
nuther,  so  that's  not  to  be  thought  of.  But  if  so  be 
(and  he  drew  himself  up  several  inches  taller)  you'd 
wish  to  go  with  this  here  drove  of  women  into  your 
temple,  or  whatever  you  call  it,  if  it  will  hold  you, 
I  have  no  objection,  though  I  am  only  commander 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  119 

here  pro  tern.  Yet  I  take  it  upon  me  to  say  there 
can  be  no  harm  done  unless,"  said  he,  winking  to 
the  centinel  at  the  door,  "  there  should  more  of  you 
come  out  than  goes  in.  They  do  say  you  are  mi 
raculous  that  way,  seeing  you  have  all  been  killed 
off  more  than  twenty  times,  and  the  next  year 
there's  just  as  many  of  you  as  there  was  before." 

11  Soldiers,  admit  the  women.  But,  stop  there  ; 
only  a  hundred  at  a  time.  Them  fellows  inside 
may  scrabble  out  in  the  confusion." 

"  How  many,  sir?"  respectfully  demanded  the 
centinel. 

"  Why,  let's  see,  they  are  as  thick  as  the  locusts 
of  Egypt ;  ten  at  a  time,  and  in  five  minutes  anoth 
er  ten,  and  so  on.  Young  woman,  (turning  to 
Pauline,)  you  had  better  wait." 

But  Pauline,  mad  with  impatience  to  see  her 
dear  father  and  brothers,  and  not  loth  to  meet  one 
more,  rushed  forward.  The  one  other  met  her 
first,  and,  dropping  his  head  on  her  shoulder,  sobbed 
like  an  infant.  Giving  a  few  tears  to  her  youthful 
admirer,  the  dutiful  Pauline  soon  released  herself 
from  his  clasping  arms,  and  rushed  through  the 
crowd  of  friends  and  neighbors  in  search  of  her 
father  and  brothers. 

Language  would  not  do  justice  to  the  scene  of 
confusion  and  distress,  as  platoon  after  platoon  of 
the  female  ranks  made  their  way  into  .the  chapel. 
Here  was  an  aged  and  widowed  mother  hanging 
over  her  son,  the  last  stay  of  her  declining  years. 
There,  some  motherless  daughter,  clinging  to  a 
father  or  brother,  all  that  remained  to  her  on  earth. 
And  there,  the  aged  matron,  invoking  heaven  to 
spare  to  her  the  partner  with  whom  she  had  travel 
led  this  vale  of  tears  for  half  a  century,  and  permit 
them  to  close  their  eyes  in  that 'beloved  though 
afflicted  country,  in  which  they  had.  drawn  their 
first  breath.  There  was  the  youthful  bride,  who 


120  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

* 

had  promised  herself  many,  many  years  of  happi 
ness  to  come  in  the  society  of  the  fondly  loved  arid 
lately  found  helpmate.  Many  a  young  wife,  with 
her  brood  of  little  children  hanging  around  their 
father's  neck,  and  uttering  the  most  bitter  lamenta 
tions.  The  affectionate  sisters  and  brothers  were 
weeping  in  each  others  arms,  as  was  Pauline  in 
those  of  Louis  ;  while  her  half-distracted  mother 
was  penetrating  the  crowd  in  every  direction,  in 
the  vain  hope  of  finding  her  husband,  each  friend 
striving  to  evade  the  question  of  "  what  had  become 
of  her  Louis  ? "  Pauline  was  first  informed  of  his 
arrest,  and  communicated  it  to  madam,  at  the  same 
time  endeavoring  to  console  her  afflicted  mother. 

"Off!  off!  thou  unfeeling  child,"  exclaimed 
madam  in  the  distraction  of  her  grief;  canst  thou 
speak  thus  calmly  of  a  father's  murder,  for  mur 
dered  he  will  be." 

"  Mother,  softly,"  whispered  that  excellent  child, 
not  heeding  the  reproach,  "do  not  incense  our  foes 
more.  Remember  we  are  in  their  power,  and  there 
may  be  some  of  these  guards  who  understand 
French.  Take  patience,  I  beseech  you,  and  it  may 
end  better  than  you  expect." 

It  was  some  time  before  these  afflicted  females 
could  be  brought  to  understand  that  they  were  not 
to  be  separated ;  that  the  commander  (Colonel 
Winslow)  had  pledged  his  word  and  honor  "  that 
families  should  go  together,"  which  left  them  the 
consolation  of  believing  that,  though  they  might 
be  reduced  to  beggary  or  pauperism  in  the  land 
whither  they  were  going,  yet  these  cherished  ones 
would  remain  together.  This,  in  some  measure, 
seemed  to  restore  quiet,  or  at  least  to  turn  boisterous 
grief  into  silent,  though  painful  acquiescence. 

By  what  sophism  Colonel  Winslow  reconciled 
this  deception,  not  to  say  abominable  falsehood,  to 
his  conscience,  history  does  not  say.  But  his  friends 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  121 

have  said  for  him,  "  that  if  he  was  engaged  in  a 
cruel  undertaking,  yet  his  honor  was  not  tarnished, 
and  doing  what  he  did  at  the  command  of  his  sov 
ereign,  implied  no  want  of  humanity  in  him  ;  that 
he  was  an  officer  whose  honor  could  not  be  im 
peached."  We  ask  what  is  honor  ?  Can  a  soldier 
violate  his  word  with  honor  ?  Was  it  honor  to  plot 
to  deceive  this  innocent  people  into  the  laborious 
business  of  getting  in  their  harvests  for  their  de 
stroyers  to  enjoy  ?  Was  it  honor  to  plot  to  get  them 
together  in  the  house  of  God,  under  false  impres 
sions,  and  then  seize  them  as  prisoners  ?  For  a  full 
account  of  this  transaction,  we  refer  our  readers  to 
the  "History  of  Nova  Scotia,"  (vol.  i.)  a  book 
whic.h  we  have  so  often  quoted.  To  return. 

When  the  feelings  of  this  afflicted  people  had 
just  attained  a  comparatively  quiescent  state,  a  new 
cause  of  excitement  appeared,  and  the  sources  of 
grief  seemed  to  burst  open  anew.  The  doors  of 
the  chapel  were  opened,  and  the  venerable  priest, 
who  had  for  so  many  years  been  their  father  and 
friend,  as  well  as  teacher,  was  rudely  thrust  in 
among  them.  In  a  new  outbreak  of  anguish,  the 
people  crowded  around  him,  and  received  his  bless 
ing.  Few  words,  however,  were  spoken  by  the 
pastor,  who  seemed  inwardly  collecting  his  strength 
for  some  mighty  effort.  Gently  putting  them  aside, 
as  they  crowded  the  aisle  leading  to  the  altar,  he 
made  his  way  to  that  sacred  place,  and  falling  on 
his  knees  before  it,  covered  his  face  with  his  hands 
many  minutes  before  he  ascended  the  steps. 

During  this  period  the  audience  had  time  to  sober 
their  grief,  and  a  holy  silence  had  succeeded  to  the 
cries  and  sobs  with  which  they  greeted  his  first 
appearance.  At  length  rising,  he  advanced  to  the 
place  where  he  had  been  permitted  for  so  many 
years  to  break  the  bread  of  life,  and  was  now,  as  a 
11 


122  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

special  favor,  allowed  to  address  them  for  the  last 
time,  which  he  did  as  follows. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

.«'  He  in  his  duty  prompt  at  every  call, 

Had  watched,  and  wept,  and  prayed,  and  felt  for  all, 

• at  his  control 

Despair  and  anguish  fled  the  struggling  soul." 

"  MY  beloved  friends  and  brethren,  and  children 
in  the  Gospel — You  have  in  this  temple  of  the  liv 
ing  God  professed  the  faith  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ  ;  that  faith  which  was  held  by  the 
prophets  and  apostles  and  martyrs  of  old.  During 
the  time  I  have  been  permitted  to  labor  among  you, 
I  have  thought  you  a  Christian,  a  believing  people. 

"  But,  my  beloved,  I  have  seen  you  only  in  cir 
cumstances  of  ease  and  prosperity.  For  I  count 
not  the  small  privations  you  have  heretofore  endur 
ed,  as  any  thing.  I  call  not  the  giving  up  a  few  of 
this  world's  goods,  while  we  have  enough  left  and 
to  Spare,  as  any  thing.  I  call  not  a  few  months' 
compelled  labor  for  our  rulers,  while  we  have  the 
remainder  to  ourselves,  and  are  surrounded  by  plen 
ty  and  the  society  of  our  dear  connexions,  by  our 
own  firesides,  as  suiferings.  To  say  nothing  of  the 
great  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith,  and  of  his 
torments  in  the  body,  the  first  disciples  of  our  cru 
cified  master  were  exposed  to  every  privation  and 
indignity  that  it  is  possible  to  conceive  of.  They 
were  persecuted,  afflicted,  and  tormented ;  suffering 
in  cold,  nakedness,  hunger,  and  watchings  ;  in  per 
ils  by  land  and  by  sea.  '  They  bore  in  their  bodies 
the  marks  of  the  Lord  Jesus.'  Their  persons  were 
scarred  and  seamed  with  the  scourgings  and  beat- 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  123 

ings  they  had  received  for  his  sake.  And  what,  I 
ask  you  now,  did  they  do  under  these  afflictions  ? 

u  Did  the  apostles  and  first  Christians  sit  down 
and  waste  their  breath  in  lamentations  ?  Did  they 
weep  and  sob,  and  pray  to  be  excused  from  their 
trials  ?  Ah  !  no,  my  dear,  dear  brethren  and  sisters, 
they  did  not.  They  took  joyfully  the  spoiling  of 
their  goods,  knowing  that  in  heaven  they  had  a 
more  enduring  substance.  They  counted  them 
selves  happy  that  they  were  thought  worthy  to 
endure  persecution  for  his  sake. 

"  And  now  I  beseech  you,  brethren,  to  imitate 
their  example.  You  are  called  upon,  this  day,  to 
exhibit  an  ensample  to  all  the  earth ;  to  prove 
whether  you  are  the  willing  disciples  of  the  suffer 
ing  Saviour,  or  have  been  compelled  into  his  ranks. 
Whether  you  have  been  enrolled  as  soldiers  of  the 
cross,  by  arbitrary  parents  and  sponsors,  into  a  ser- 
vice  your  hearts  reject  and  your  understandings  dis 
approve,  or  whether  your  own  free  will  has  ratified 
the  deed,  and  you  are  willing  to  follow  the  great 
captain  of  our  salvation  to  prison  and  to  .death,  if 
such  be  his  will.  If  there  are  any  compelled  ser 
vants  here,  it  is  not  such  that  I  address.  [Here  he 
made  a  long  pause.]  Let  him  that  is  on  the  Lord's 
side,  hold  up  his  right  hand." 

Every  hand  was  immediately  held  up,  except  the 
English  guard,  who  did  not  understand  French, 
save  one  placed  there  to  ascertain  there  was  no  trea 
son  spoken. 

"  Who  here  is  willing  to  part  with  all  that  he 
has,  to  be  the  disciple  of  our  Lord,  let  him  hold  up 
his  hand." 

Every  hand  was  raised. 

"  No  reserves,"  continued  the  pastor  ;  "  for  who 
soever  is  not  willing  to  forsake  father  and  mother, 
husband  and  wife,  brothers  and  sisters,  and  all  these 


124  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

together,  if  his  Lord  requires,  is  none  of  his.     Be- 
lievest  thou  this  ?  " 

There  was  a  dead  silence. 

"  Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things,"  continued 
the  gray-haired  preacher,  "  let  him  hold  up  both  his 
hands." 

Alas  !  alas  !  not  a  hand  was  raised.  The  pastor 
regarded  them  a  few  moments  in  mournful  silence. 
At  length  he  asked, 

"  Are  ye  Christians  ?  are  ye  believers  ?  "  When 
an  old  man  sobbed  out,  "  Lord,  we  b3lieve,  help 
thou  our  unbelief ;  "  arid  immediately  the  whole 
assembly  fell  on  their  knees,  simultaneously  utter 
ing  an  "  amen."  "  Save,  Lord,  or  we  perish  ;  " 
"  God  be  merciful  to  us  sinners ;  "  "  Enable  us  to 
suffer  all  thy  will,"  were  reiterated  in  agony  of 
spirit ;  thus  proving  that  people  in  their  extremity 
go  immediately  to  God,  and  never  think  of  appeal 
ing  to  him,  when  in  earnest,  through  the  medium 
of  saints  and  angels.  The  pastor  prayed  long  and 
fervently  with  his  afflicted  flock,  and  arose  witii  a 
look  so  lofty,  and  yet  resigned,  so  elevated  above 
this  world,  that  it  seemed  to  his  en  wrapt  hearers  as 
though  they  could  almost  see  the  shining  of  his 
face.  Wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  brow,  where, 
whatever  might  be  the  errors  of  his  creed,  the  grace 
of  God  was  evidently  inscribed,  he  proceeded  to 
say  : 

"  It  is  but  once  in  an  age,  my  dear  brethren,  that 
the  disciples  of  our  blessed  Lord  are  called  to  re 
ceive  the  crown  of  martyrdom ;  and  it  is  not  im 
possible  but  some  of  us  are  destined  to  that  high 
honor,  that  glorious  passport  to  the  third  heaven  ; 
and  I  entreat,  I  beseech  of  you,  not  to  let  the  benefit 
of  your  example  be  lost.  Future  generations  may 
look  to  you  for  an  ensample  of  suffering  and  of 
patience,  and,  seeing  your  fortitude  and  constancy, 
may  glorify  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  125 

"  I  am  going  to  tell  you  that  you  are  to  be  scat 
tered  in  a  strange  land  ;  but  he  that  dwelleth  in  the 
thick  darkness,  is  yet  enthroned  in  righteousness, 
and  may  even  in  this  have  designs  of  mercy  and 
goodness  in  store  for  you,  that  you  cannot  now 
even  have  an  idea  of.     You  think  you  are  to  be 
scattered  among  your  enemies,  who  will  perhaps 
make  you  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water. 
But  granting  that  this  may  be  the  case  for  a  time, 
you  may  go  out  weeping,  and  in  the  lapse  of  ages 
return  singing  with  everlasting  joy  upon  your  heads. 
I  counsel  no  resistance.     You  have  began  to  suffer ; 
suffer  all  his  will  who  has  called  you  to  suffer  for 
his  sake.     You  will  not  be  as  sheep  having  no 
shepherd,  for  the  shepherd  and  bishop  of  souls  will 
care  for  you.     This  earthly  temple  you  will  no  more 
see.     But,  my  dear  hearers,  there  is  a  temple  not 
made  with  hands,  to  which  all  can  at  all  times 
have  access.     These  earthly  remembrances  (glanc 
ing  at  the  ornaments  of  the  chapel)  serve,  indeed, 
in  a  time  of  l  ease  in  Zion,'  to  put  one  in  mind  of 
that  Saviour  whose  cross  we  are  too  apt  to  over 
look,  and  of  the  holy  men  and  martyrs  who  suffered 
in  olden  time  ;  but  in  the  furnace  of  affliction  you 
will  not  need  them.     The  cross  you  will  bear  on 
your  own  shoulders,  and  you  will  need  no  emblems 
to  remind  you  of  the  suffering  saints  of  old. 

"  I  am  an  old  man  ;  like  yourselves  I  am  a  pris 
oner  ;  my  fate  is  an  unknown  one  to  me  ;  but  I 
think  I  am  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and  the  time 
of  my  departure  is  at  hami.  There  be  some  here 
whose  faces  I  shall  see  no  more,  -and  I  bid  you  all 
an  affectionate  farewell.  Farewell !  farewell !  be 
steadfast,  immovable,  be  faithful  unto  death,  and 
Christ  shall  give  you  a  crown  of  life." 

The  guard  now  appeared  to  conduct  the  venera 
ble  priest  to  the  quarters  of  the  commander,  who, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  chose  to  be  himself  the 
11* 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

jailer  of  their  spiritual  guide,  and,  we  find,  actually 
carried  him  with  him  to  his  house  in  Massachusetts. 

We  will  not  say  that  the  voice  of  the  pastor  did 
not  falter  when  he  blessed,  for  the  last  time,  the 
people  of  his  charge.  We  will  not  say  that  his 
hands  did  not  tremble,  when  he  laid  them  for  the 
last  time  upon  the  heads  of  his  brethren  and  their 
little  ones.  But  we  may  say  that  his  example,  like 
his  precepts,  were  worthy  of  all  praise. 

Intercession  was  made  by  the  females  to  have 
their  friends  return  with  them  to  their  habitations. 
But  this  was  refused.  Nor  was  this  privilege  grant 
ed  any,  until  the  day  before  sailing,  when  ten  at  a 
time  were  released  to  assist  their  families  to  the 
place  of  debarkation,  and  in  removing  such  effects 
as  they  were  permitted  to  carry  to  the  transports, 
drawn  up  in  the  river  Gaspereaux  to  receive  them. 

To  see  Louis,  if  possible,  was  the  determination 
of  Madam  St.  Pierre  and  Pauline,  upon  leaving  the 
chapel.  But  this,  they  were  now  told,  was  impos 
sible;  as  he  had  made  his  escape  from  the  guard 
house  during  the  night,  and  could  not  be  found, 
though  several  soldiers  were  out  in  pursuit  of  him. 
Trusting  that  he  was  concealed  somewhere  near 
his  own  dwelling,  they  were  hastening  in  that  di 
rection,  when  they  were  informed  that  the  younger 
Louis,  Pauline's  brother,  had  just  been  carried  to 
the  guard-house  as  a  hostage  for  his  father,  and 
that  if  the  father  did  not  present  himself  before  the 
day  of  sailing,  which  was  fixed  for  the  tenth,  (four 
days  from  that,)  the  son  would  be  shot,  such  being 
the  Governor's  orders,  namely :  u  That  all  offences 
should  be  visited  upon  the  next  of  kin,  the  offender 
being  out  of  the  way,  or  in  default  of  kindred, 
upon  the  next  neighbor." 

That  such  a  refinement  in  cruelty  should  have 
been  thought  of,  appears  almost  incredible.  Nev 
ertheless,  it  is  true  j  and  the  copy  of  Governor 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  127 

Lawrence's  instructions  to  that  effect  is  still  to  be 
seen  in  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Collection,  in 
the  handwriting  of  Colonel  Winslow. 

Great  exertion  was  made  to  collect  the  persons 
who  had  escaped  into  the  woods,  for  many  had  dis 
obeyed  the  proclamation  to  attend  the  meeting  at 
the  chapel,  and  had  hid  themselves  in  the  woods. 
As  has  been  shown,  it  was  no  part  of  the  policy  of 
those  who  were  hunting  them  into  captivity  to  let 
them  escape  to  Canada.  Scouts  were  out  in  every 
direction.  There  was  another  fear,  too,  and  that 
was  alarming  the  other  districts  at  a  distance,  whom 
they  were  plotting  to  entrap  in  the  same  manner. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

14  Who  ne'er  his  purpose  for  remorse  gave  o'er, 
Or  checked  his  course  for  piety  or  shame  ; 
Who,  trained  a  soldier,  deemed  a  soldier's  fame 
Might  flourish  in  the  wreath  of  battles  won, 
Though  neither  truth  nor  honor  decked  his  name." 

WE  must  now  change  the  scene  to  a  dwelling  of 
even  more  humble  and  secluded  appearance  than 
the  farm.  Though  quite  remote  from  any  other 
habitation,  being  situated  in  a  deep  dell,  it  exhibited 
many  marks  of  good  taste  about  it.  There  was  a 
beautiful  garden  in  its  rear,  and  about  its  w  hi  ted 
walls  the  honey-suckle  and  eglantine  had  been 
taught  to  climb,  and  shaded  the  few  windows  in 
its  front.  It  was  surrounded  on  all  sides,  at  a  little 
distance,  with  an  almost  impervious  forest,  except 
as  here  and  there  little  vistas  had  been  opened 
through  the  trees,  showing  spots  of  land  where 
cattle  or  sheep  were  usually  grazing.  One  outlet 
only  admitted  a  view  of  the  river  below  and  the 


128  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH, 

breeze  from  the  water,  which,  but  for  that,  would 
have  been  rather  confined  during  the  hottest  part 
of  the  season. 

In  an  apartment  looking  towards  this  partial 
opening,  upon  a  small  pallet-bed  lay  a  female,  whose 
countenance,  though  exquisitely  beautiful,  exhibit 
ed  not  only  the  ravages  of  disease,  but  much  of 
mental  agony.  The  snowy  pillow  upon  which 
rested  that  fine  formed  head,  was  not  whiter  than 
the  cheek  that  reposed  on  it.  Her  hands  were 
clasped,  and  on  the  marble  brow  lay  the  locks  of 
jet-black  curls.  Her  eyes  were  closed,  and  but 
that  her  pale  lips  slightly  moved,  as  though  in 
prayer,  and  but  for  the  heaving  of  that  faded  bosom, 
you  might  have  supposed  that  the  soul  had  already 
left  its  frail  tenement,  and  soared  to  that  world 
where  sin  and  sorrow  can  never  come.  Long  time 
did  the  gentle  sufferer  lay  hovering  between  life 
and  death,  until  her  attention  was  awakened  by 
the  entrance  of  two  little  children,  who  had  been 
playing  in  the  next  room.  They  rushed  in  calling 
for  "  mamma  ;  "  and  at  the  sound  she  opened  her 
eyes,  looked  at  them  one  moment,  and  then  raised 
them  imploringly  to  heaven. 

The  two  children  then  came  up  to  the  bed  and 
asked  for  Maria.  The  mother  extended  a  hand  to 
them,  which  they  both  seized,  looking  in  her  face 
and  then  at  each  other  with  childish  wonder.  The 
eldest,  only  three  years  old,  inquired  "  if  mamma 
wanted  any  thing  ? "  To  which  the  sick  lady 
answered,  "  drink  ;"  when  the  little  creature  very 
carefully  brought  a  cup  from  the  table  and  held  it 
up.  She  took  a  few  swallows,  and  seemed  refresh 
ed.  "  God  bless  you,  dear  children,"  she  said ; 
"  what  can  I  do  with  you  ?  " 

The  reader  will  probably  surmise  this  was  the 
wife  of  Louis,  whose  only  attendant,  Maria,  had 
been  despatched  to  make  inquiries  after  the  impris- 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  129 

oned  husband  and  father,  at  the  earnest  request  of 
the  invalid  herself,  who  did  not  realize  how  very 
ill  she  was  on  this  day.  The  faithful  Maria  was 
loth  to  leave  her,  but  there  was  no  putting  her  off ; 
and  as  to  getting  any  one  to  stay  in  her  place,  that 
was  impossible  ;  for  this  was  on  the  ninth  of  the 
month,  and  the  families  were  commanded  to  get 
the  few  things  they  were  permitted  to  carry,  such 
as  their  bedding,  cooking  utensils,  wearing  apparel, 
and  provisions  for  their  voyage,  to  the  shore  ready 
to  be  embarked  the  next  day.  As  we  before  ob 
served,  ten  at  a  time  for  each  neighborhood  were 
permitted  to  leave  the  chapel,  and  go  render  their 
assistance  in  conveying  their  things. 

Four  days  of  harassing  anxiety  had  done  the 
work  of  ages  upon  the  exhausted  frame  of  Gabri- 
ella.  She  was  as  yet  ignorant  of  the  imprisonment 
of  Louis,  though  she  was  aware  of  the  flight  of  his 
father.  Far  was  she  from  suspecting  that  her  hus 
band  was  even  then  under  sentence  of  death,  and 
that  he  was  sentenced  to  be  brought  out  and  shot, 
in  sight  of  his  family  and  friends,  on  the  next 
morning,  in  case  his  parent  did  not  return  by  that 
time,  and  in  the  event  of  his  return,  if  by  compul 
sion,  he  himself  was  to  be  the  victim.  It  had  been 
judged  expedient  to  keep  Gabriella  in  ignorance  of 
his  seizure  in  the  first  place  ;  and  of  his  sentence, 
passed  on  this  day,  the  family  at  the  farm  had  but 
just  learnt. 

It  had  been  a  matter  of  deep  consultation,  in  the 
family  of  Louis,  in  what  manner  they  should  be 
able  to  remove  their  sick  sister,  and  in  what  man 
ner  they  should  account  to  her  for  the  absence  of 
her  husband  when  they  came  to  embark  ;  for  well 
were  they  aware  that  a  slight  shock,  added  to  what 
she  had  already  experienced,  would  shake  her  deli 
cate  frame  to  dissolution.  Pauline  had  visited  her 
every  day  since  the  imprisonment  of  their  friends 


130  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

at  the  chapel,  and,  with  the  family,  had  been  con 
certing  every  measure  calculated  to  soothe  her 
pains,  and  facilitate  her  removal.  Vain  cares  !  her 
Creator  had  provided  a  different  home  for  her  from 
that  "  beyond  the  western  main,"  and  the  forces  of 
his  Majesty  a  different  conveyance. 

Maria,  the  excellent  young  woman  who  had  been 
attending  her,  after  receiving  her  commands,  paused 
on  the  threshhold  of  the  door.  "  My  beloved  mis 
tress,"  she  softly  whispered,  "  should  we  meet  no 
more  !  something  tells  me  this  is  our  last.  Oh  God  ! 
oh  God !  "  she  softly  exclaimed,  wringing  her  hands 
in  agony,  "  she  may  be  murdered  in  my  absence, 
or  I  murdered  on  the  way  ;  and  then  these  dear 
little  ones,  suppose  I  take  them  ?  I  may  save  their 
lives.  But  no,  1  could  not  carry  them,  and  to  lead 
them  two  miles  would  hinder  me.  I  must  be 
quick."  And  she  now  hurried  forward  with  breath 
less  haste,  in  the  almost  certain  hope,  however,  of 
meeting  some  of  the  family  coming  to  their  assist 
ance.  But  as  no  tidings  of  her  were  ever  after 
heard,  nor  no  traces  of  her  discovered  after,  unless 
it  was  a  few  fragments  of  a  shawl  she  wore  across 
her  shoulders,  by  some  persons  who  shortly  after 
passed  that  way  from  the  farm  for  the  purpose  of 
seeing  the  sick  woman,  we  must  leave  the  kind- 
hearted  girl  here,  hoping  that  her  fate  on  earth, 
which  we  shudder  at  the  bare  thought  of,  only  ad 
mitted  her  a  passage  to  a  better  world,  where  she 
and  her  beloved  mistress  sat  down  together  in  the 
paradise  of  God. 

May  no  eyes  that  peruse  this  story,  ever  have 
occasion  to  shed  such  tears  as  stole  down  the  pale 
cheek  of  the  fair  invalid,  as  she  gazed  on  the  two 
innocent  prattlers  who  were  trying,  in  their  artless 
manner,  to  beguile  her  attention. 

"  Dear  children,"  she  said,  "  I  am  dying.  Oh  ! 
what  will  become  of  you  ?  Father  in  heaven,  send 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  131 

one  friend,  only  one !  "  and  she  raised  her  clasped 
hands  in  agony  to  heaven.  As  she  uttered  this 
expression,  the  door  slowly  opened,  and  Menoi,  the 
friendly  savage,  stood  before  her. 

"  Lady,  can  I  serve  you  ?  "  asked  the  red  man, 
with  evident  emotion,  as  he  advanced  to  the  couch, 
and  looked  earnestly  in  her  face. 

"  Menoi,  God  be  praised  !  "  exclaimed  Gabriella, 
as  she  made  an  ineffectual  effort  to  raise  herself  up, 
and  sank  back  again  exhausted.  "  Menoi,  know 
you  the  fate  of  our  people  ?  Of  my  husband,  Louis  ?" 

The  savage  shook  his  head. 

"  Don't  deceive  me,  Menoi,  I  am  dying,"  said 
she. 

"  Merioi  no  deceive.  To-morrow,  my  white 
brethren  be  all  sent  off,  great  way  over  water,  to 
be  Englishman's  slave.  If  old  Louis  come  back 
well,  he  not  come  ;  they  shoot  young  Louis."  A 
shudder  passed  over  the  frame  of  the  dying  woman, 
and  she  closed  her  eyes  for  a  moment,  uttering  an 
incoherent  prayer,  in  which  the  most  that  could  be 
distinguished  was  "  my  children  !  " 

"  Lady,"  said  the  savage,  "  will  trust  Menoi 
with  little  ones ;  he  carry  them  to  Canada,  please 
God.  If  French  no  take  'em,  my  squaw  bring  'em 
up  with  pappoose.  Half  Menoi  have,  Louis'  babies 
have." 

Gabrieila  passed  her  hands  across  her  eyes. 

"  One  moment,  stop  one  moment.  Yes,  Menoi, 
I  will  trust  them  with  you.  Take  them,  and  if 
possible  get  them  to  Quebec.  Tell  Frontinac  they 

are  the  descendants  of  his  friend . 

If  he  will  not  receive  them,  keep  them,  and  may 
God  bless  you  and  yours  as  you  prove  faithful  to 
my  babes.  I  trust  you  are  a  Christian,  Menoi. 
Teach  them  to  love  God,  and  to  remember  me 
when — when" The  last  of  the  sen 
tence  gurgled  in  her  throat ;  a  dreadful  spasm  shook 


132  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

her  frame,  and  the  gentle  Gabriella,  the  fond,  devo 
ted  wife  and  tender  mother  was  no  more. 

The  savage  bent  down  his  head  to  see  if  she 
breathed.  All  was  silent.  Gently  he  disengaged 
the  wonder-struck  children,  and  telling  them  they 
must  "  be  still,  and  go  see  father,"  he  took  one  on 
each  arm,  and  plunged  into  the  wood  with  them. 

He  had  no  sooner  disappeared,  than  a  posse  of 
British  soldiers  made  their  appearance.  A  suspicion 
had  been  communicated  that  Louis  the  elder  might 
be  concealed  at  this  remote  place,  and  a  small  com 
pany  of  British  soldiers  from  the  fort  had  been  sent 
out,  as  being  best  acquainted  with  the  country,  to 
search  this  neighborhood. 

Fierce  as  bloodhounds,  they  rushed  into  the 
building,  and  directly  into  the  room  where  lay  the 
remains  of  the  lovely  Gabriella.  A  peaceful  smile 
was  on  the  lips  of  her  whom  no  tumult  should  ever 
again  disturb  ;  the  hands  were  meekly  folded  on 
her  bosom,  and  the  parting  lips  appeared  as  though 
they  might  have  even  then  been  calling  down 
blessings  on  her  murderers.  "  There  are  tears  on 
her  cheek,"  said  one  of  the  soldiers,  who  drew 
near,  and  seemed  to  cast  a  glance  of  compassion. 

"  Fire  the  building  f  "  shouted  a  stentorian  voice. 
"  Our  orders  are  imperative,  to  fire  the  house  if  we 
did  not  find  the  prisoner.  No  delay  there,  time 
presses."  His  orders  were  obeyed,  and  the  flames 
of  the  building  soon  rose  in  one  wide  sheet  to 
heaven.  From  the  first  opening  in  the  forest,  the 
savage,  with  his  precious  burden,  caught  a  view  of 
the  blazing  pile ;  and  savage  though  he  was,  stop 
ped  to  give  one  sigh  to  the  gentle  being  whose 
earthly  part  was  consumed  in  it. 

It  was  but  for  a  moment,  for  there  was  no  time 
to  lose.  Carefully  and  safely  putting  aside  the 
branches,  the  wary  chief  pursued  his  way  towards- 
the  place  where  he  had  designed  to  rest  until  night. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  133 

In  that  neighborhood  he  had  hid  a  canoe,  and  at 
nightfall  he  proposed  to  embark  in  this  frail  con 
veyance,  and  carry  them  to  a  small  encampment  of 
Indians,  where,  he  trusted,  they  would  be  safe  until 
the  heat  of  pursuit  should  be  over,  when  he  would 
proceed  to  Canada  with  them. 

Whether  the  intentions  of  the  generous  savage 
would  have  been  carried  into  effect,  could  he  have 
gained  this  place  even1,  is  after  all  uncertain.  But 
his  designs  were  doomed  to  be  baffled,  for  now  a 
new  difficulty  intervened  to  stop  his  progress.  A 
house  and  barn  had  just  been  fired  near  the  place 
where  he  had  to  pass,  and  fearful  the  flames  would 
communicate  to  the  adjoining  forest,  he  was  obliged 
to  change  his  course,  and  by  that  means  exposed 
himself  to  the  observation  of  some  straggling  sol 
diers,  part  of  a  scout  who  had  been  sent  out  to 
search  for  the  missing.  The  "reward  of  ten  guin 
eas  for  every  Indian  scalp,"  which  had  recently 
been  offered  by  Governor  Lawrence,  was  not  for 
gotten  at  this  moment.  The  hue  and  cry  of  "  an 
Indian  !  an  Indian  !  "  resounded  through  the  woods, 
and  showers  of  bullets  were  falling  in  all  directions. 

With  as  much  precipitation  as  possible,  burdened 
as  he  was,  the  red  man  fled  before  his  pursuers. 
A  shriek  from  the  boy  now  announced  he  was 
wounded,  but  still  the  savage  dashed  onward.  He 
was  armed,  and  had  he  been  alone  would  have  sold 
his  life  dear.  But  one  arm  encircled  each  child, 
and  there  was  no  possibility  of  defending  himself. 
Flight  was  his  only  resource,  and  he  evidently 
gained  upon  his  pursuers,  until,  coming  to  the  river, 
he  stopped  irresolute  one  instant,  and  looked  back. 
It  was  fatal.  A  bullet  entered  his  side,  and  he 
could  only  stagger  back  a  few  paces,  ere  he  fell  on 
the  sward.  The  place  where  he  fell,  however,  was 
well  calculated  for  concealment,  being  completely 
defended  from  the  rays  of  the  sun  by  the  interven- 


134  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

ing  branches  forming  a  kind  of  natural  arbor,  en 
closed  on  every  side,  saving  the  one  by  which  he 
entered.  Here  Menoi  sunk  upon  the  sward,  con 
vinced  his  labors  were  over,  and  here  we  shall 
leave  him  for  a  few  moments. 

Aggravated  beyond  measure  by  the  daring  and 
contemptuous  language  of  Louis  at  the  meeting, 
Colonel  Winslow  had  determined,  at  all  events,  to 
secure  his  person.  Whether  he  was  animated  whol 
ly  by  a  spirit  of  revenge,  or  whether  he  really 
thought  as  he  said,  that  "  he  was  a  dangerous  per 
son  to  go  loose,"  or  whether  he  thought  it  a  hard 
thing  one  person  should  suffer  for  the  sins  of  anoth 
er,  or  whether  all  of  them  operated,  we  cannot  say. 
But  he  evinced  a  desire  to  make  an  example  of 
him,  rather  uncommon  ;  and  as  scout  after  scout 
had  returned  unsuccessful,  he  had  that  morning 
rode  out  himself,  determined  to  direct  the  pursuers, 
who  were  now  hunting  him  up, 

The  party  who  had  been  diverted  from  the  pur 
suit  of  the  fugitives  by  the  sight  of  an  Indian,  had 
missed  the  savage  after  his  wound.  They  were 
not  sensible  they  had  shot  him,  but,  indeed,  thought 
him  much  further  off  than  he  was.  When  they 
arrived  at  the  river  side,  and  saw  the  print  of  his 
foot  on  the  soft  sand  along  the  edge  of  the  bank, 
where  in  truth  he  had  passed  up  that  morning 
when  on  his  way  to  the  habitation  of  Louis,  (and 
most  imprudently  stopped  to  hit  a  buck  on  the  op 
posite  side,)  they  thought  of  course  they  were  fol 
lowing  him,  and  proceeded  up  the  stream.  Colonel 
Winslow  had  heard  the  shouting,  and,  turning  his 
horse  in  that  direction,  gained  the  bank  of  the  river. 
Here  he  stopped,  and  commanding  his  few  attend 
ants  to  dismount  and  follow  on,  he  himself  awaited 
their  return. 

Exceedingly   fatigued   by   the   exercise   of  the 
morning,  he  resolved  to  alight  and  refresh  himself 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  135 

and  was  proceeding  down  the  bank  to  the  water, 
when  he  discovered  spots  of  blood  upon  the  grass. 
Though  alone,  he  was  no  coward ;  and  following 
the  track,  he  traced  them  to  the  place  we  have  just 
described,  and  entered  the  recess. 

The  scene  that  presented  itself  was  petrifying. 
Never  on  the  field  of  battle  had  he  seen  any  thing 
so  touching  as  what  he  now  beheld.  There  lay 
the  savage,  each  arm  still  encircling  a  child.  The 
beautiful  boy  of  three  years  old,  in  his  terror  had 
clung  to  his  neck,  and  death  had  only  tightened 
the  grasp.  His  bright  flaxen  locks  were  dabbled 
in  blood,  and  his  fair  round  cheek  rested  against 
that  of  the  red  man.  His  eyes  were  open,  those 
beautiful  blue  eyes,  though  the  languor  of  death 
weighed  on  their  lids.  The  little  girl,  just  one  year 
younger,  and  not  less  beautiful,  reposed  her  head  on 
the  dusky  bosom  of  the  chief.  She  had  been  sti 
fled  by  the  firm  grasp  in  which  she  was  held.  In 
the  agitation  of  his  flight,  Menoi  had  grasped  her 
with  an  energy  he  was  not  aware  of.  It  had  stop 
ped  her  breath,  and  the  soul  had  quitted  its  little 
tenement  and  taken  its  flight  for  heaven.  The 
starting  eye-ball,  the  half-opened  mouth,  as  though 
gasping  for  breath,  and  the  purple  flush  of  the  brow, 
proclaimed  the  death  she  had  died.  Unlike  her 
fjrother  in  appearance,  the  pure  French  blood  spoke 
out  in  every,  feature. 

We  envy  not  the  feelings  of  the  commander  as 
he  stood  transfixed  and  gazed  upon  this  scene. 
The  features  of  the  grim  savage,  too,  were  not  to 
be  mistaken.  Life  in  him  was  not  yet  extinct,  and 
his  glaring  eye-balls  spoke  daggers  to  the  "imagina 
tion  of  Colonel  Winslow.  A  Mic  Mac,  too,  one  of 
the  most  savage  of  all  the  races  of  Indians.  And 
yet  he  had  perished,  nobly  perished,  in  the  endeavor 
to  rescue  infant  innocence. 

The  Colonel  had  stood  upon  the  field  of  battle 


136  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

while  the  horrors  of  carnage  raged  around  him,  and 
slaughtered  hundreds  were  stretched  on  every  side  : 
and  more,  he  had  beheld  unmoved  the  agonies  of 
this  very  people.  He  had  assisted,  in  cold  blood, 
to  wring  the  hearts  of  hundreds  whom  he  had  heard 
supplicating  around  him,  broken  hearted,  and,  dread 
ful  to  tell,  his  own  remained  untouched.  But  noth 
ing  had  equalled  this.  The  cold  sweat  stood  upon 
his  forehead,  and  he  felt,  his  knees  smite  one  anoth 
er.  He  stooped  and  bared  the  bosom  of  the  boy, 
and  the  blood,  no  longer  impeded,  spouted  a  stream 
from  the  bullet-hole  in  his  breast.  He  lifted  the 
little  soft  hand  of  the  girl,  and  it  fell  powerless 
from  his  grasp.  For  the  first  time  his  heart  was 
softened,  and  tears  unbidden  forced  themselves 
down  his  cheeks,  while  in  agony  of  spirit  he  ex 
claimed, 

"  ^hy  was  I  commissioned  upon  this  iniquitous 
service  ?  Was  there  no  monster,  steeped  to  the  lips 
in  blood,  who  could  have  been  found  ?  No  canuikil, 
who  would  have  undertaken  it  ?  The  conduct  of 
this  savage  will  rise  up  against  me  in  the  day  of 
judgment !  The  King  commands  it :  true.  But 
who  is  the  King  ?  Can  he  forgive  sin  ?  Can  he 
sanctify  evil  deeds  ?  Can  he  make  the  Ethiopian 
white,  or  the  leper  clean  ?  Can  he  purge  the  guilty 
conscience  ?  What  if  I  leave  this  ungrateful  service 
now  ?  I  will !  I  will !  nor  stain  my  soul  still  deep 
er  with — with — innocent  blood !  "  And  he  wrung 
his  hands,  tore  the  sword  from  his  side,  and  threw 
it  on  the  bank. 

Suddenly  a  distant  but  tumultuous  shout  reached 
his  ears.  Hastily  snatching  up  his  sword,  he  emerg 
ed  from  the  shade  and  ascended  the  neighboring 
hill,  where  a  scene  presented  itself  so  awfully  grand, 
so  horribly  sublime,  as  to  enchain  every  faculty. 

The  heavens  were  darkened  with  smoke,  while 
on  every  side  towering  flames  rose  in  the  air,  and 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  137 

the  wailing  of  the  inhabitants  broke  upon  the  ear 
as  nothing  ever  can  equal,  until  that  day  when  the 
wicked  shall  "  call  on  the  rocks  and  the  mountains 
to  cover  them  and  hide  them  from  the  wrath  of 
God." 

His  orders — alas  !  he  had  forgotten  the  savage 
order — had  been  too  faithfully  obeyed.  History 
informs  us,  that  "  two  hundred  and  fifty-five  houses, 
i wo  hundred  and  seventy-six  barns,  one  hundred 
and  fifty-five  outhouses,  and  eleven  mills,  were  all 
on  fire  at  once."  The  crackling  flames  gathered 
strength  on  every  side,  and  the  maddened  and  af 
frighted  cattle  were  flying  about  the  country  in  all 
directions.  Self-preservation  was  now  the  only 
thought  of  the  commander,  and  hastily  buckling  on 
his  sword,  he  sought  his  horse  to  make  the  best  of 
his  way  to  quarters.  Should  the  surrounding  woods 
take  fire,  he  would  be  caught  in  his  own  toils,  or 
should  he  meet  a  drove  of  the  furious  cattle,  he 
might  fare  hard.  A  quaking  of  limb,  we  opine, 
might  have  been  seen  then,  had  there  been  any  to 
observe.  But  although  he  soon  found  some  of  his 
attendants  searching  for  him,  and  leading  his  horse, 
their  own  terrors  were  so  great  they  did  not  observe 
him.  Taking  a  path  as  much  out  of  the  way  as 
possible,  and  closing  his  senses  to  the  sights  and 
sounds  of  misery,  he  was  so  happy  as  to  reach  his 
quarters  in  safety,  entirely  cured  of  his  penitence, 
and  rejoicing  that  the  morrow  would  end  his  labors 
in  this  region,  and  see  them  all  embarked. 


ft 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  139 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  Even  now  the  devastation  is  begun, 
And  half  the  business  of  destruction  done  ; 
Even  now,  methinks,  as  pondering  here  I  stand, 
I  see  the  rural  virtues  quit  the  land." 

THE  order  for  burning  the  buildings  may  be  ex 
plained  in  few  words.  It  was  to  oppose  a  sure 
defence  against  any  straggling  ones  who  might  hide 
themselves  until  after  the  sailing  of  the  exiles,  and 
then  return  to  their  habitations.  The  day  had  beenj 
devoted  to  the  removal  of  the  last  of  the  household 
goods  the  miserable  Acadians  had  been  permitted 
to  take,  and  there  were  piled  up  on  the  shore  of 
the  river  where  they  were  to  embark,  uncertain  to 
the  last  how  many  of  them  they  should  be  per 
mitted  to  take.  They  had  endured  one  more  trial 
in  seeing  for  the  last  time  the  faithful  and  docile 
animals  that  drew  them.  For,  as  their  carts  and 
conveyances  were  unharnessed  on  the  shore,  these 
poor  creatures  were  turned  loose  to  perish  as  soon 
as  the  frozen  earth  should  refuse  them  subsistence. 
Their  valuable  cattle,  flocks  of  sheep  and  of  poul 
try,  had  all  been  looked  at  in  turn  for  the  last  time  ; 
and  the  only  consolation  respecting  them  was,  that 
after  the  English  had  supplied  themselves  with 
what  they  wanted,  their  barns  and  houses,  which 
they  had  left  open  for  the  purpose,  would  aiford 
them  shelter  through  the  winter.  A  restless  and 
lingering  desire  to  view  these  cherished  homes  once 
more,  had  impelled  many  to  return  from  the  shore. 
Some  had  not  left  the  premises  when  the  dreadful 
order  to  fire  the  buildings  was  given.  When  the 
inhabitants  saw  this,  as  may  well  be  imagined,  their 
distress  and  agony  were  intense.  They  felt  then, 
truly,  that  all  hope  was  extinct  for  themselves,  and 
that  their  poor  animals  must  inevitably  perish.  "  In 


140  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

this  one  district  of  Minas  alone,  their  stock  con 
sisted,  at  this  time,  of  one  thousand  two  hundred 
and  sixty-nine  oxen,  one  thousand  five  hundred  and 
fifty-seven  cows,  five  thousand  and  seven  young 
cattle,  four  hundred  and  ninety-three  horses,  eight 
thousand  six  hundred  and  ninety  sheep,  and  four 
thousand  one  hundred  and  ninety-seven  hogs." 
(See  MS.  of  Colonel  Winslow.) 

It  seems  astonishing  that  no  means  were  taken 
to  save  this  immense  amount  of  property,  either  by 
taking  them  off  alive  to  the  other  provinces,  or  kill 
ing  and  exporting  the  beef,  mutton,  &c.  And  it 
appears  particularly  strange  that,  as  Massachusetts 
and  other  provinces  made  immediate  complaints  to 
the  government  of  such  a  host  of  people  sent  des 
titute  among  them,  no  means  were  taken  to  send 
and  bring  off  this  stock,  instead  of  supporting  them 
wholly  at  the  public  expense,  which  they  must  do, 
and  did,  it  seems.  Yet  such  was  the  fact.  They 
were  not  made  use  of.  Most  of  them  perished,  and 
their  bones,  many  years  after,  whitened  the  earth 
in  that  region.  Of  course,  the  English  garrison, 
and  the  few  English  besides  in  Nova  Scotia,  could 
not  have  made  use  of  this  immense  amount  of  pro 
vision.  But  the  question  suggests  itself,  why  was 
it  not  prepared  for  exportation  and  sent  to  England, 
where  there  has  always  been  more  or  less  of  a 
starving  population  ?  The  amazing  fact  that  it  was 
not  so,  stares  us  in  the  face  ;  and  if  there  be  a  cir 
cumstance  that  adds  one  shade  of  infamy  to  the 
transaction  it  is  this :  that  1  hey  destroyed  what  they 
did  not  want,  and  took  what  they  could  make  no 
use  of. 

The  evening  succeeding  a  day  of  such  peril  and 
hardship  to  himself,  as  Colonel  Winslow  considered 
it,  was  passed  by  him  in  close  quarters.  In  reality, 
nothing  had  ever  exceeded  his  astonishment  at  the 
patience  and  forbearance  of  the  Neutral  French. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  141 

• 

Compelled  to  quit  their  own  dear  native  land,  a  land 
where  even  the  multiplied  trials  and  sufferings  of 
their  race  had,  it  seems,  helped  to  endear.  To 
behold  with  their  own  eyes  the  destruction  of  their 
cherished  homes,  and  be  exposed  to  all  the  insult 
and  degradation  connected  with  such  a  catastrophe, 
and  yet  no  word  of  anger,  no  threat  of  vengeance 
had  escaped  their  lips.  Even  the  cool  contempt  of 
the  elder  Louis,  cutting  and  provoking  as  it  was, 
contained  no  threat,  (though  it  evidently  was  more 
stinging  than  though  it  had.)  It  was  marvellous, 
almost  surpassing  belief. 

The  commander  had,  on  that  evening,  before  re 
tiring  to  his  comfortable  quarters,  coolly  written  his 
orders,  "  that  if  the  elder  Louis  should  not  be  found 
or  present  himself  by  next  morning  at  nine  of  the 
clock,  his  eldest  son,  the  younger  Louis,  should 
suffer  in  his  stead,  by  being  drawn  out  in  front  of 
the  garrison  and  shot."  And  having  performed 
that  imperative  act  of  justice,  as  he  termed  it,  went 
in  and  very  comfortably  ensconced  himself  before 
a  cheerful  fire  he  had  ordered  to  keep  off  the  damps 
and  chills  which,  from  its  proximity  to  the  river, 
he  thought  might  be  unhealthy. 

A  table,  smoking  with  the  good  things  of  the 
land,  and  wine  and  spirits  from  other  lands,  was 
spread  in  the  room,  and  only  waited  the  arrival  of 
Captain  Murray  and  two  or  three  officers  of  inferior 
grade,  to  commence  operations.  The  gentlemen 
soon  arrived,  and  took  their  seats  according  to  eti 
quette.  For  some  time  the  attention  to  the  calls 
of  appetite  precluded  conversation.  At  length,  hun 
ger  being  somewhat  appeased,  they  gradually  fell 
to  discourse,  and  each  had  something  to  relate  about 
his  own  courageous  exploits  through  the  day. 

One  had,  as  he  said,  "  fired  ten  different  farm 
houses  with  his  own  hand,  his  soldiers  being  afraid 
to  go  in,  the  inmates  yelled  so  hideously  in  French.'' 


142  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

This  excited  great  merriment,  and  the  room  rang 
again  with  laughter.  One  proposed  a  toast  "  to 
their  speedy  acquisition  of  the  English  language." 
This  was  drunk  with  great  glee. 

Another  "  had  twice  escaped  being  run  down  by 
the  infuriated  cattle  in  an  attempt  to  burn  a  barn 
where  they  were  confined ;  "  and  averred  he  had 
discovered  an  excellent  remedy  for  restiff  beasts — 
"  to  touch  them  now  and  then  with  a  firebrand." 
The  others  protested  they  would  improve  upon  the 
discovery  when  they  came  to  drive  out  the  Neu 
trals  from  the  adjoining  districts,  as  he  thought  "  a 
few  firebrands  thrown  among  the  obstinate  women 
and  children,  might  have  a  marvellous  tendency  to 
learn  them  good  manners,  and  to  move  quicker  at 
the  commands  of  their  superiors." 

"  They  were  not  over  swift  to  get  out  of  the 
way,  it  must  be  confessed,"  said  another.  "  One 
old  blind  man  detained  me  some  time,  saying  his 
prayers  ;  and  it  was  several  minutes  before  we  could 
convince  him  he  would  have  leisure  to  say  them 
on  the  passage.  The  only  difficulty  I  had  with 
my  own  men,  was  in  burning  a  retired  house  where 
lay  the  most  beautiful  woman  I  ever  saw,  if  she 
had  not  been  French.  However,  they  burnt  it  at 
last,  and  her  in  it." 

"God  forbid!"  said  Colonel  Winslow,  starting 
from  his  chair  ;  "  you  did  not  burn  up  a  human 
being,  and  a  woman  too  !  " 

"  Why,  she  was  dead,  Sir,"  said  the  officer  re 
spectfully,  "  and  you  gave  no  orders  to  bury  the 
dead." 

"  True,"  responded  the  commander,  sinking  back 
to  his  chair  ;  "  but  were  there  no  friends  near  to 
bury  her  ?  " 

"  No  human  being,  I  assure  you,  though  we  met 
a  person  shortly  after,  who  accused  us  of  burning 
two  small  children,  who,  he  said,  were  there.  But 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  143 

it  was  false,  there  was  nothing  in  the  house  that 
had  life." 

We  will  not  weary  our  readers  with  all  the 
coarse  jokes  and  unfeeling  remarks  uttered  on  that 
occasion  ;  but  merely  say  that  the  stories  grew 
more  marvellous,  and  the  wit  brightened,  as  the 
candles  and  decanters  grew  lower,  until  the  com 
pany  separated,  and  Colonel  Winslow  was  left  alone 
again  in  his  room.  The  effervescence  of  his  spirits 
seemed  to  go  off  with  the  company  ;  for  they  had 
no  sooner  retired,  than  the  commander  was  seen 
leaning  his  head  upon  his  hand,  his  elbow  resting 
upon  the  table — from  which  all  had  been  cleared  ex 
cept  the  well-drained  decanters — in  a  very  thought 
ful  mood. 

The  wind  had  risen  during  the  evening,  and 
now  blew  almost  a  gale  ;  and  as  it  shook  the  case 
ment  of  the  windows,  perhaps  brought  to  his  mind 
the  poor,  shivering  wretches  encamped  on  the  shore, 
with  nothing  but  their  goods  and  the  carts  that 
brought  them  to  shield  them  and  their  babes  from 
the  dampness  and  cold.  All  females,  too,  the  males 
being  still  shut  up  in  the  church.  Perhaps  he 
thought  on  their  forlorn  condition ;  perhaps  he  was 
thinking  upon  the  sweets  of  unlimited  power,  hav 
ing  for  the  first  time  tasted  them  that  day.  But 
there  is  no  telling  what  he  did  think.  The  wasting 
light  and  dying  embers  on  the  hearth,  however, 
warned  him  the  evening  was  far  advanced,  and  he 
was  just  rising  to  retire,  when  he  was  diverted  by 
a  slight  noise  at  the  entrance.  Presently  the  door 
was  thrown  open,  and  a  young  girl  rudely  thrust  in. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ? "  exclaimed  the  com 
mander  in  a  rage,  at  being  intruded  on  thus,  with 
out  his  permission.  But  his  anger  was  instantly 
appeased  by  the  sight  of  the  interesting  being  be 
fore  him. 

The  person  who  now  presented  herself  to  the 


144  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

astonished  Colonel,  appeared  some  fourteen  or  fif 
teen  years  of  age,  and,  as  some  romance  writer 
said  of  his  heroine,  "  too  lovely  to  be  looked  at 
steadily."  True,  that  her  marble  cheek  was  only 
visited  by  the  softest,  faintest  flush,  and  her  polish 
ed  brow  was  shaded  by  curls  that  had  not  on  that 
day,  at  least,  fbeen  smoothed.  Indeed,  the  winds 
of  heaven  had  dealt  so  rudely  with  them  on  this 
evening,  that  they  appeared  blown  in  all  directions. 
Her  beautiful  countenance  expressed  a  degree  of 
anxiety,  and  even  agony,  quite  uncommon  in  one 
of  her  years ;  and  her  finely  formed  month  seemed 
vainly  endeavoring  to  give  utterance  to  the  feelings 
that  swelled  her  laboring  bosom.  Twice  did  those 
ruby  lips  unclose  to  give  utterance  to  something, 
and  twice  close  again,  as  if  the  effort  were  vain. 

Thinking  that  some  strange  terror  kept  her  mute, 
and  that  perhaps  her  communication  affected  his 
personal  safety  in  some  way  or  other,  he  spoke 
soothingly  to  her,  and  begged  her  to  disclose  the 
nature  of  her  business  immediately.  For  the  first 
time  she  raised  the  long'  dark  lashes  that  shaded 
her  eyes,  and  looked  him  steadily  in  the  face.  The 
eye  was  French,  there  was  no  mistaking  that ;  and 
such  was  the  force  of  prejudice, — we  record  it  with 
grief, — half  the  feelings  of  kindness  with  which  he 
had  been  disposed  to  regard  her,  vanished  at  the 
conviction.  If  Walter  Scott  had  written  at  that 
day,  he  would  probably  have  quoted  him  : 

"  Why  is  it,  at  each  turn  I  trace 
Some  memory  of  that  hated  race  ?" 

"  Can  you  understand  French,  Sir  ?  "  asked  the 
girl,  speaking  in  imperfect  English,  but  in  a  voice 
of  melodious  sweetness. 

"  I  don't  speak  it  well,  but  I  believe  I  can  under 
stand  you  child.  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  I  come,  Sir,"  said  the  girl,  advancing  to  the 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  145 

table,  and  speaking  with  an  energy  that  was  almost 
startling,  when  contrasted  with  her  first  appearance, 
"I  come  to  ask  the  life  of  a  brother,  unjustly  con 
demned  to  death." 

"  Ha  !  "  said  the  commander,  "is  the  young  cub 
that  is  to  die  to-morrow,  your  brother?  " 

"  The  young  man  who  is  so  sentenced  is  my 
eldest  and  dearly  beloved  brother,"  said  Pauline. 

'•  But  how  sayest  thou  he  is  unjustly  sentenced  ? 
Know  you  not  that  his  father  is  a  traitor,  and  keeps 
himself  out  of  the  way  ?  Let  him  deliver  himself 
and  save  the  lad." 

"  Alas  !  Sir,  we  know  not  where  he  is,  but.  fear 
he  has  slain  himself.  My  father,  if  living,  would 
never  suffer  his  son  to  die  for  him,  unless  he  is, 
as  we  fear,  mad." 

u  Why,"  said  the  commander.  "  have  you  ever 
discovered  any  symptoms  of  madness  in  him  ?  " 

;t  Very  many,"  said  Pauline,  following  up  the 
idea  ;  he  has  behaved  very  singular  of  late,  ab 
senting  himself  for  days  together.  He  could  not 
Mave  been  in  his  senses.'' 

"  Oh !  "  said  the  commander,  somewhat  molli 
fied  by  the  assurance  that  the  insult  he  had  received 
was  from  a  madman  •  "  but  as  respects  your  brother, 
girl,  my  orders  are  from  the  Governor,  and  his  from 
the  King,  and  he,  you  know,  must  be  obeyed." 

"  May  he  reward  you,  Sir,  better  for  your  obe 
dience  than  he  has  us,"  said  Pauline,  with  a  sigh. 
"  But  you,  as  commander  here,  have  the  power  to 
reprieve  as  well  as  to  condemn.  My  brother,  Sir, 
was  torn  from  a  dying  wife,  who,  in  her  last  mo 
ments,  consigned  her  two  infants  to  a  savage  Indian. 
No  other  human  help  was  nigh,  and  those  two  inno 
cent  babes  were  shot  by  your  soldiers,  with  their 
protector.  My  brother !  my  brother !  "  she  exclaim 
ed,  wringing  her  hands,  "  hast  thou  not  suffered 
•enough  ? " 

13 


146  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

The  last  part  of  the  sentence  was  unheard  by 
the  commander ;  for  full  before  him,  in  imagina 
tion,  lay  the  ghastly  savage,  with  his  clenched 
teeth  and  glazing  eye-balls,  and  the  little  innocents 
on  his  bosom. 

"  Then  it  was  your  brother's  wife  who  was  con 
sumed  in  yonder  house,"  said  he,  with  a  deep 
drawn  breath,  "  and  his  children  who  perished  with 
the  savage  ? " 

"  It  was  !  "  exclaimed  Pauline  ;  "  and  could  you 
have  seen  them  as  I  did  " — 

"  I  have  !  I  have  !  "  exclaimed  Colonel  Winslow, 
pressing  his  hand  on  his  eyes  as  though  to  shut  out 
some  dreadful  vision.  Then  rising,  he  rang  a  small 
bell  which  stood  on  the  table,  and  told  the  attend 
ant  who  answered  it  "to  get  him  a  piece  of  paper." 
After  writing  a  few  lines,  he  folded  and  presented 
it  to  the  waiting  and  agonized  pleader. 

"  Thou  hast  prevailed,  poor  girl,"  he  said,  with 
a  softened  voice  ;  "  thou  hast  saved  the  life  of  thy 
brother.  Give  this  to  Captain in  the  morn 
ing.  It  is  a  reprieve." 

With  unbending  firmness  the  youthful  Pauline 
had  stood  before  him  while  making  her  request ; 
but  she  was  now  softened.  She  took  the  paper, 
and  burst  into  tears. 

"  Oh,  Sir,"  said  she,  "  when  the  King  Eternal 
shall  judge  you  for  obeying  an  earthly  king,  may 
he  remember  this  one  good  deed." 

"  Well,  I  see  you  are  no  flatterer.  But  stop, 
child  ;  can  I  be  of  any  other  service  to  you,  con 
sistent  with  my  duty?  You  must  be  rather  chilly 
out  there  this  raw  night.  Will  you  take  a  glass  of 
wine  ?  "  proffering  one  at  the  same  time. 

Pauline  looked  up.  "  While  my  friends  on  yon 
der  shore  are  suffering  for  a  drop  of  fresh  water,  no. 
I  will  say  as  our  blessed  Lord  said  before  his  suffer 
ings,  c  I  will  drink  no  more  of  the  fruit  of  the  vine 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  147 

until  I  drink  it  in  my- father's  kingdom.' '  Then 
turning  to  the  commander,  and  making  a  low  and 
graceful  obeisance,  she  departed. 

"  These  French,  your  honor,  never  lose  their  po 
liteness,  any  how,"  said  Andrew,  an  English  attend 
ant,  who  had  been  some  years  in  the  country. 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  I  can't  tell,"  said  the  com 
mander,  musing.  "  She  came  very  near  losing  hers, 
methought,  once  or  twice,  but  dost  know  any  thing 
about  her,  Andrew  ?  She  is  something  quite  extra 
ordinary.  A  papist,  and  pious  too,  and  has  read 
the  Bible.  I  marvel  at  that.  And  then  her  man 
ner  might  adorn  a  court." 

"  Oh  yes,  your  honor,  she  is  one  of  the  best  edu 
cated  among  them,  and  has  a  French  Bible.  The 
priest  and  all  consider  her  as  quite  a  prodigy. 
Moreover,  she  is  the  schoolmaster's  sweetheart,  and 
a  fine  looking  fellow  he  is,  too,  bating  his  being 
French  and  a  papist." 

u  But,  now  I  think  of  it,  Andrew,  how  came  she 
in  here  without  permission,  or  even  being  announc 
ed  ?" 

"  Why,  your  honor,  she  said  she  had  important 
business,  and  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  and  that  you 
would  be  sorry  when  it  was  too  late,  if  she  did  not 
see  you  ;  and  so  the  sentinel  admitted  her,  without 
any  more  palaver." 

'•'  Indeed  !  Well,  just  see  that  he  admits  no  more, 
my  good  fellow.  I  am  going  to  try  to  sleep.  But, 
Andrew,  how  do  those  poor  people  on  the  shore 
endure  this  cold  wind  ?  Do  they  grumble  much  ? 
All  females,  too  ;  it  is  bad,  you  know." 

•'  I  cannot  tell,  your  honor.  I  only  heard  Nede- 
biah  Smith  say  there  was  a  few  of  them  dead 
when  he  changed  guard,  an  old  woman  or  so,  .and 
one  or  two  children,  and  that  they  were  going  to 
bury  them  in  the  sand  at  daybreak.  But  he  said 
there  was  no  mourning,  each  one  wished  it  had 


148  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

been  themselves.  They  also  say  there  were  several 
sick  with  the  fall  sickness,  whom  they  fear  were- 
burnt  up  in  their  houses." 

"  That  is  a  mistake,"  said  the  commander  ;  "  and 
I  trust  those  who  died  on  the  shore,  died  no  sooner 
for  removing.  Doubtless  their  time  had  come," 
hemming  once  or  twice  to  clear  his  throat. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Andrew.  "  Hurried  them,  no  ; 
for  they  were  dying  when  they  began  to  move  ;  so 
it  would  be  useless  for  them  to  say  being  turned 
out  in  the  night  air  killed  them." 

"  You  may  go,"  said  the  commander,  possibly 
thinking  the  conversation  was  taking  rather  an 
unpleasant  turn.  (l  You  may  go,  but  wake  me  at 
the  first  glimpse  of  dawn." 

The  attendant  departed,  and  the  commander  was 
once  more  left  to  himself.  The  dying  embers  and 
nearly  exhausted  lights  seriously  admonished  him 
to  retire.  Before  he  did  so,  however,  he  walked 
the  room  about  ten  minutes,  nearly  as  fast  as  an 
ordinary  horse  would  go  upon  a  trot,  wiped  his- 
forehead,  opened  the  window,  listened  one  moment 
to  the  howling  gust  as  it  swept  past,  the  distant 
roar  of  the  surge  on  the  beach,  and  heard  the  mid 
night  sentinel  say,  as  he  slowly  paced  his  rounds 
under  the  window,  "  All's  well."  Then  shutting 
the  window,  with  an  involuntary  response  of  "  all's 
well  !  Oh  God !  "  retired  to  rest  and  to  sleep. 

The  image  of  the  graceful  Pauline  haunted  the 
early  part  of  his  slumbers.  Her  keen,  heart-search 
ing  glance  was  still  turned  to  him,  look  which  way 
he  would.  He  could  not  get  out  of  the  way  of  it 
for  some  time.  At  length  the  scene  changed.  A 
figure  incessantly  pursued  him,  and,  turning  to  face 
his  unknown  foe,  the  gigantic  person  of  the  slaugh 
tered  savage  stood  before  him.  He  tried  to  flee, 
but  fell  over  the  bodies  of  the  two  murdered  in 
fants,  whose  warm  blood  he  thought  he  could  feei 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  149 

trickling  over  his  face  and  hands.  He  tried  to  rise, 
but  could  not,  when  the  loud  yell  of  the  Indian 
awoke  him  j  and,  so  vivid  was  the  impression  that, 
upon  awaking,  he  could  not  help  believing  the  red 
men  had  come  to  the  rescue.  Wearied  and  ex 
hausted,  he  now  rose  and  pressed  his  repeater  to 
see  what  time  it  was.  The  watch  answered  to 
three,  and  judging  that  two  hours'  sleep  would 
refresh  him  much,  he  once  more  sought  his  pillow 
and  repose. 

Thus  far,  the  long-suffering  goodness  of  God  had 
sought  him.  It  was  now  the  devil's  turn,  and  he 
had  no  sooner  closed  his  eyes  than  a  scene  of  a 
very  different  kind  presented  itself. 

He  now  suddenly  found  himself  in  a  splendid 
hall,  where  the  lights  from  unnumbered  lustres 
almost  dazzled  him.  At  one  end,  seated  upon  a 
small  platform,  elevated  a  foot  or  two  above  the 
carpeted  floor,  and  beneath  a  canopy  of  crimson 
velvet,  sat  a  man  of  about  sixty-five  years  of  age, 
clothed  in  ermine  and  purple,  and  around  waited 
in  princely  state  hosts  of  attendants  in  splendid 
attire,  either  of  whom,  taken  alone,  would  have 
commanded  attention  from  any  one  so  wedded  to 
the  pomp  and  vanities  of  the  world  as  was  the  com 
mander  of  his  Majesty's  forces  from  the  province  of 
Massachusetts  Bay.  It  wanted  not  the  diadem  or 
sceptre — though  both  were  there — to  assure  him 
that  he  stood  in  the  presence  of  England's  King. 
But  what  particular  business  brought  him  to  the 
court  of  George  the  Second,  he  could  not  at  first 
divine,  until  a  hand  was  tendered  him,  and  he  was 
gracefully  led  up  to  the  feet  of  royalty.  He  was 
about  to  kneel,  when  the  King  presented  his  hand, 
and  thanked  him  before  the  assembled  court  "  for 
his  zeal  in  ridding  his  province  of  Nova  Scotia  from 
the  enemies  of  his  crown."  He  then  knelt  down, 
and  a  sword  being  presented  his  Majesty,  he  laid  it 
13* 


150  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

on  his  shoulder,  and  commanded  him  to  "  rise.  SIR 
JOHN  WINSLOW."  A  military  band  of  music  then 
struck  up  "  God  save  the  King,"  and  arnid  the 
waving  of  standards  and  congratulations  of  admir 
ing  throngs,  the  Colonel  awoke,  fully  nerved  for 
the  business  he  had  on  hand ! ! ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  Good  heaven  T  what  sorrows  gloomed  that  parting  day, 
That  called  them  from  their  native  walks  away  ; 
When  ths  poor  exiles,  every  pleasure  past, 
Hung  round  thy  bowers,  and  fondly  looked  their  last : 
And,  shuddering  still  to  face  the  distant  deep, 
Returned  and  wept,  and  still  returned  to  weep." 

IN  the  neighborhood  of  Grand  Free,  th<3ii  district 
of  Minas,  (now  Horton,)  there  were  collected  about 
two  thousand  souls.  The  tenth  of  September  was 
scarcely  ushered  in,  by  firing  the  morning  gun  and 
rolling  of  the  drum,  &c.,  before  the  whole  were  in 
motion.  The  road  from  the  chapel  to  the  shore, 
just  one  mile  in  length,  was  crowded  with  women 
and  children,  who  awaited  in  breathless  expectation, 
the  appearance  of  husbands,  brothers,  fathers,  and 
sons.  Pale  faces  bathed  in  tears  might  be  seen  on 
every  side. 

The  wind  that  had  howled  so  dismally  through 
the  night,  had  now  lulled.  But  a  damp  and  chilly 
atmosphere  seemed  to  forebode  a  coming  storm. 
Nature  appeared  to  mourn  the  woes  she  witnessed. 
For  the  sun  had  hid  his  face,  and  the  driving  scud 
and  dark  and  heavy  masses  of  clouds  still  obscured 
the  face  of  heaven. 

About  one  hour  had  elapsed  since  this  mournful 
company  had  gathered  along  the  highway — an  age 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  151 

to  them.  When,  suddenly,  the  blast  of  a  trumpet 
was  heard,  and,  emerging  from  a  road  on  the  right, 
the  commander  and  his  military  escort  appeared  in 
sight.  He  was  mounted  on  a  fine  charger,  that 
pranced  and  curveted  as  though  he  was  bearing  the 
person  of  his  portly  rider  to  a  triumph,  and  exulted 
in  the  elegant  housings,  &c.  with  which  he  was 
decorated.  Colonel  Winslow  himself,  had  some 
how  managed  to  throw  off  the  look  of  care  he  had 
worn  on  the  preceding  evening.  Though  he  was 
somewhat  pale,  he  appeared  not  only  collected  but 
resolute.  In  fact,  there  was  an  appearance  of  stern 
determination  about  him  that  argued  rather  unfa 
vorably  for  the  afflicted,  heart-stricken  beings  that 
the  dark  and  inscrutable  decrees  of  a  mysterious 
Providence  had,  for  the  present,  subjected  to  his 
mandate. 

With  an  air  of  sullen  dignity,  our  commander 
passed  on  through  the  ranks  of  sobbing  females 
that  lined  the  road.  Without  the  slightest  courtesy 
or  sign  of  recognition  to  those  who  bore  the  form 
of  woman,  he  never  once  bent  his  head,  except 
now  and  then  to  shun  a  branch  that  ventured  to 
obtrude  itself  "  between  the  wind  and  his  nobility," 
until  a  short  turn  in  the  road  placed  suddenly  before 
him  an  object  that,  nerved  as  his  feelings  were,  he 
could  not  behold  without  some  emotion.  It  was 
the  beautiful  and  interesting  girl  that  appeared  to 
him  on  the  preceding  evening  ;  and  if  her  beauty 
and  grace  had  interested  him  then,  the  position  he 
now  saw  her  in  was  calculated  to  do  so  still  more, 
for  if  ever  despair  was  personified,  it  was  in  her. 
She  stood  like  some  marble  statue,  and  there  was  a 
rigidity  about  her  features  that  was  absolutely  start 
ling. 

On  the  bank  before  him  was  seated  an  aged  man, 
of  most  venerable  appearance,  while  a  girl  of  almost 
infantile  years  knelt  before  him,  with  her  face  hid 


152  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

in  his  lap,  sobbing  with  violent  emotion.  Not  so 
the  graceful  Pauline,  who  supported  his  head  on 
her  bosom,  and  held  one  of  his  withered  hands 
clasped  in  hers,  though  the  look  with  which  she 
regarded  him  seemed  almost  petrified  ;  there  was  a 
kind  of  stupefaction  about  it,  that  would  at  once 
have  startled  an  observer,  had  not  his  own  woes, 
as  did  those  of  these  unhappy  people,  absorb  every 
faculty.  The  commander  looked  at  her  for  an  in 
stant,  as  though  to  ascertain  whether  she  breathed 
or  no.  She  never  raised  her  eyes,  and  he  said, 
haughtily, 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  Did  not  I  command 
every  man  to  be  at  the  chapel  five  days  ago  ?  " 

"  My  poor  father  is  blind,  Sir,"  said  a  middle- 
aged  woman,  of  most  dignified  appearance,  who 
now  stepped  forward,  "  and  very  aged,  and  we  fear 
this  walk,  combined  with  his  other  suffering,  may 
prove  his  death." 

Pauline  never  once  looked  up,  but  in  immovable 
silence  still  continued  to  hold  the  hand  and  support 
the  person  of  her  grandfather,  upon  whom  her  eyes 
were  bent,  with  that  stone-like  gaze. 

Without  deigning  a  reply  to  madam,  the  com 
mander  rode  on,  followed  by  his  attendants,  and 
the  crowd  pressed  after,  each  wishing  to  be  first  to 
seize  the  hand  of  a  husband,  or  some  dear  relative, 
intending  to  go  hand  in  hand  to  the  vessels,  that 
they  might  by  no  means  be  separated.  The  short 
distance  from  where  Pauline  now  was,  enabled  her 
to  reach  it,  supporting  the  tottering  steps  of  her 
grandfather,  and  they  arrived  just  before  the  church 
doors  were  thrown  open,  and  the  prisoners  ordered 
to  come  forth.  As  soon  as  they  were  all  out  of  the 
church,  the  young  men  and  lads  were  ordered  to 
stand  apart.  They  were  then  arranged  six  deep, 
and,  contrary  to  all  ideas  of  precedence,  to  march 
on  first.  In  the  utmost  surprise  and  confusion,  they 
demanded  to  know  what  it  meant. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  153 

It  was  now  that  Colonel  Winslow  threw  oft'  the 
mask,  and  appeared  in  the  true  spirit  of  his  embas 
sy.  He  now  boldly  proclaimed  his  intention  "  of 
sending  the  young  men  by  themselves,  the  old  ones 
by  themselves,  and  the  women  and  children  (he 
observed)  would  fill  the  remaining  vessels." 

Horror  and  amazement  were  depicted  on  every 
countenance.  Many  of  the  females  fainted  on  the 
spot,  and  cries,  groans,  shrieks,  and  prayers  were 
mingled  together  in  such  lamentation  as  we  ques 
tion  ever  was  heard,  unless  it  might  be  when  Herod 
gave  command  to  destroy  ail  the  first-born  of  the 
children  of  Israel.  To  be  not  only  driven  out  from 
their  peaceful  and  happy  homes,  scattered  in  a 
strange  land,  whose  manners,  language,  and  cus 
toms  they  were  unacquainted  with  ;  to  be  taken 
from  plenty  and  condemned  to  poverty  and  servi 
tude  ;  to  not  only  encounter  the  perils  of  the  ocean, 
but,  as  a  refinement  in  cruelty,  to  be  condemned  to 
encounter  them  alone,  separated  from  all  they  loved 
on  earth,  Oh !  it  was  too  much  to  think  of — it  was 
heart-rending.* 


*  It  seems  scarce  credible,  but  such  is  the  fact,  that  historical 
writers  who  have  mentioned  this  scene,  have  expressed  a  degree 
of  pity  for  the  tyrant  who  in  this  affair  carried  into  execution  the 
mandates  of  a  greater  one.  We  have  no  recollection  of  seeing 
any  order  to  Colonel  Winslow,  prescribing  the  manner  in  which 
the  exiles  should  be  classed  on  bgard  the  vessels  ;  certainly  none 
for  the  separation  of  families.  And  we  have  no  doubt  this  was  an 
arrangement  of  his  own  contriving.  Cruelty  is  a  passion  that 
grows  by  what  it  feeds  on,  There  is  not,  from  the  lord  of  the 
forest  down  to  the  meanest  animal,  any  but  what  are  maddened  by 
the  taste  of  blood.  The  unresisting  anguish  of  these  deeply  af 
flicted  people,  instead  of  working  compassion  in  the  hearts  of  those 
who  carried  the  cruel  mandate  of  their  expulsion  into  effect,  seems 
to  have  had  the  effect  of  heightening  their  cruelty.  In  one  of  the 
letters  of  Captain  Murray  to  Colonel  Winslow,  at  that  period,  he 
says,  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  the  poor  devils  take  it  so  patiently." 
"  Poor  devils .'  "  The  man  who  could  speak  of  such  sufferings  as 
theirs  in  such  a  manner,  or  he  who  could  reciprocate  it,  o:ight  to 
have  the  word  "  villain  "  written  on  his  tombstone. 

Our  readers  will  recollect  the  conduct  of  these  men  is  a  matter 


154  THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH. 

This  unreasonable  and  tyrannical  command  was 
most  unexpectedly  met  by  the  young  men  with 
suitable  demonstrations  of  resentment.  They  one 
and  all  drew  back,  and  refused  to  proceed,  unless 
their  parents  and  families  were  permitted  to  accom 
pany  them.  The  demoniacal  passions  which  policy 
had  kept  down,  while  cunning  and  caution  were 
necessary,  were  no  longer  concealed,  as  with  close- 
shut  teeth  and  eyes  sparkling  with  rage,  the  com 
mander  fiercely  ordered  the  soldiers  to  advance 
upon  them  with  fixed  bayonets,  unarmed  and  de 
fenceless  as  they  were,  while  himself,  rudely,  seizing 
the  foremost  one,  jerked  him  forward.  Of  this  ri 
diculous  and  contemptible  action,  Colonel  Winslow 
actually  boasted  afterwards  in  his  report,  and  the 
same  circumstance  is  narrated  in  his  journal,  which, 
as  we  observed,  is  still  to  be  seen.  But  to  return. 
It  was  impossible  for  the  commander  on  withdraw 
ing  his  hand,  and  uncollaring  the  man,  to  -escape 
the  glance  of  utter  contempt  which  passed  from 
rank  to  rank  upon  observing  this  ruffiianly,  unsol- 
dierlike  action. 

Gladly,  at  this  moment,  would  the  young  men, 
the  youthful  band  of  sufferers  on  this  occasion, 
have  laid  down  their  lives  on  the  spot,  have  sung 
hallelujahs  at  the  prospect  of  instant  death  ;  but  to 
be  mangled  to  pieces,  without  that  privilege,  mur 
dered  by  inches,  and  yet  not  killed,  flayed  alive  in 


of  historical  record.  And  one  of  the  first  inquiries  that  suggests 
itself,  upon  reading  of  the  manner  in  which  this  man  falsified  his 
word  pledged  to  the  Neutrals,  "  that  their  personal  comforts 
in  the  transportation  should  be  attended  to  as  much  as  pos 
sible,  and  families  should  not  be  separated,"  is,  had  he  the  power  ? 
•Was  he  authorized,  or  not,  to  make  such  a  promise  '  And,  if  he 
was,  how  came  he  to  falsify  it  ?  A  soldier's  honor  is  his  own,  and 
respected  as  such  among  all  nations.  A  man  may  be  compelled  to 
fight,  and  so  much  against  his  judgment  and  feelings.  But  no 
poorer  on  earth  can  make  a  man  a  liar,  but  with  his  own  consent. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  155 

sight  of  their  distracted  parents  and  brethren,  to  be 
cut  and  hacked  and  gashed  to  pieces,  and  finally 
compelled  to  obedience  after  all,  was  more  than 
flesh  and  blood  could  bear.  And  thus  goaded,  they 
took  up  their  march,  followed  at  some  little  distance 
by  the  older  men,  in  the  same  order  ;  their  feel 
ings  partook  not  of  the  warmth  of  the  younger  part 
of  the  company  ;  and,  we  record  it  with  grief,  there 
was  an  evident  feeling  of  disappointment,  mixed 
with  anger,  at  their  peaceable  deportment,  which 
left  no  room  for  the  exercise  of  severity  on  the  part 
of  their  oppressors.  With  the  most  perfectly  calm 
and  collected  deportment,  they  passed  on  through 
the  groups  of  women  and  children,  that  lined  the 
road  on  each  side  through  that  interminable  mile, 
and  who  fell  involuntarily  on.  their  knees  as  they 
passed,  with  streaming  eyes  imploring  heaven  in 
strong  cries  for  mercy.  In  the  midst  of  this  all- 
harrowing  scene,  the  men  were  enabled,  like  Paul 
and  Silas,  to  sing  praises  unto  God,  and  one  uni 
versal  strain  of  praise  and  thanksgiving,  in  loud 
hosannas,  burst  in  full  chorus  from  a  thousand  lips. 
Oh  you  who  assert  that  Frenchmen  have  no  feel 
ing,  and  papists  no  piety,  read  this,  a  fact  sufficiently 
attested  in  history,  and  ponder.  With  short  inter 
missions  of  ejaculatory  prayer,  this  was  continued 
until  they  reached  the  shore,  where  a  trial  awaited 
them  worse  than  all.  It  was  the  parting  look  at 
their  .families,  the  consummation  of  their  martyr 
dom.  Upon  stepping  on  board  the  transports,  each 
one  might  have  exclaimed  with  the  hapless  Agag, 
"  Surely  the  bitterness  of  death  is  past."  The 
moment  in  which  they  took  this  last  look  of  their 
greatest  earthly  treasures,  must  have  been  one  of 
excruciating  agony,  and  we  doubt  if  their  fortitude 
did  not  falter  in  so  trying  a  moment. 

Five  transports  lay  too  and  received  the  male  part 
of  the  population,  and  each  one  was  guarded  on 


156  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

the  voyage  with  "  six  non-commissioned  officers 
and  eighty  privates."  We  dare  not  dwell  upon  the 
scenes  attending  the  embarkation  of  the  wretched 
Neutrals — -the  agonizing  shrieks  of  children  for  their 
parents,  wives  for  their  husbands  and  sons,  and  the 
great  distress  oi  removing  the  sick,  many  of  whom 
died  on  their  passage,  and  a  vast  many  aged  persons. 
Imagination  sickens  over  the  horrors  of  that  day, 
and  our  readers  can  doubtless  bring  the  scene  before 
their  mind  in  all  its  appalling  circumstances.  We 
will,  therefore,  leave  the  great  mass  of  sufferers, 
and  follow  the  footsteps  of  our  heroine. 

In  the  background  of  the  scene  transacting  on 
the  shore,  at  the  time  of  «the  embarkation  of  the 
male  population,  Pauline,  who  had  continued  to 
support  the  tottering  steps  of  her  grandfather,  was 
now  seen  holding  his  trembling  arm,  while  she 
parlied  with  the  soldier  who  was  urging  him  to 
hurry  on  board  where  the  older  men  were  embark 
ing.  No  longer  was  the  deathlike  and  rigid  look 
to  be  seen.  Her  cheek  was  flushed  and  her  eye 
sparkled  as  she  plead  the  cause  of  humanity  in 
behalf  of  the  poor  blind  man.  whom  she  argued  it 
would  kill  to  separate  from  his  family,  and  besought 
she  might  be  permitted  to  take  him  with  her  among 
the  females. 

"  What  is  the  matter  in  this  quarter?  "  said  the 
commander,  riding  up  and  surveying  the  group  in 
question.  The  officer  told  him.  At  the  same  time 
a  very  prepossessing  youth,  just  embarking,  was 
exchanging  adieus  with  Pauline. 

"  Maiden,"  said  the  commander.  "  I  will  grant 
thee  one  more  favor,  thy  lover  or  thy  grandfather. 
Choose  quickly." 

"  My  choice,"  said  the  indignant  maiden,  turn 
ing  upon  him  a  scornful  glance,  "  is  the  path  of 
duty."  Hastily  drawing  the  arm  of  the  infirm  old 
man  through  hers,  she  led  him  aside. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  157 

The  wind,  which  had  risen  again,  was  now 
blowing  almost  a  gale,  and  the  word  being  given 
of  "  all  ready,"  the  white  sails  were  speedily  un 
furled,  and  the  vessels  containing  the  male  part 
of  the  population,  careening  to  the  blast,  dashed 
through  the  foaming  waters,  scattering  the  spray 
from  their  sides  like  sheets  of  feathers,  and  were 
soon  out  of  sight.  A  few  more  hours  on  that  cold 
shore,  and  the  craft  destined  to  receive  the  females 
arrived.  Just  as  the  sun  was  sinking  behind  the 
western  hills,  enveloped  as  he  was  in  flying  clouds, 
and  every  thing  presaging  a  storm — half  sick  with 
grief,  terror,  watching,  and  exposure,  the  wretched 
women  and  their  little  ones  bade  a  long  and  last 
adieu  to  their  native  shore,  their  once  lovely  and 
still  beloved  home.  Until  the  last  streak  of  day 
had  faded  from  the  horizon,  you  might  have  dis 
covered  the  graceful  form  of  Pauline  clinging  to 
the  railing  of  the  last  vessel,  while  one  arm  clasped 
the  person  of  her  aged  grandfather,  whose  sightless 
orbs  were  raised  to  heaven,  while  his  gray  hair 
fluttered  in  the  gale.  What  a  contrast  to  the  youth 
ful  figure  beside  him  !  Her  long  dark  curls  were 
waving  about  her  person,  and  her  dewy  eyes  direct 
ed  to  the  receding  landscape.  Together,  they 
formed  a  group  that  might  have  stood  for  the  angel 
of  the  resurrection  about  to  bear  some  aged  saint 
to  heaven. 


14 


158  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH, 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  Sunk  are  thy  bowers,  in  shapeless  ruin  all, 

And  the  long  grass  o'ertops  the  mouldering  wall  ; 
And  trembling,  shrinking  from  the  spoiler's  hand, 
Far,  far  away,  thy  children  quit  the  land." 

PAUSE  we  upon  a  scene  of  destruction  and  deso 
lation  rarely  paralleled,  even  when  marking  the 
course  of  a  victorious  army  through  some  conquered 
country.  Here,  "  no  embattled  hosts  had  strewed 
the  ensanguined  plain."  No  contending  armies  had 
met.  The  peaceful  and  gentle  race  who  had  just 
been  drawn  from  their  happy  firesides,  offered  no 
resistance  to  the  cruel  exactions  and  multiplied 
demands  of  their  oppressors.  What  a  scene  must 
have  met  the  eye  on  every  side,  immediately  on  the 
departure  of  this  people  ;  and  how  hardened  the 
heart,  how  seared  the  conscience,  that  could  not 
feel  on  such  an  occasion  !  Despairing  ourselves  of 
giving  an  adequate  idea  of  the  total  ruin,  we  take 
the  liberty  to  transcribe  a  paragraph  entire  from 
Halliburton's  History  of  Nova  Scotia,  (vol.  i.  p. 
180.)  After  remarking  that  the  haste  with  which 
the  embarkation  of  these  unfortunate  people  was 
conducted,  did  not  admit  of  the  preparations  for 
their  comfort  so  desirable,  &c.,  he  adds  : 

"  The  hurry,  confusion,  and  excitement  connect 
ed  with  the  embarkation  had  scarcely  subsided, 
when  the  provincials  were  appalled  at  the  work  of 
their  own  hands.  The  novelty  and  peculiarity  of 
their  situation  could  not  but  force  itself  upon  the 
attention  of  even  the  unreflecting  soldiery.  Sta 
tioned  in  the  midst  of  a  beautiful  and  fertile  coun 
try,  they  suddenly  found  themselves  without  a  foe 
to  subdue,  and  without  a  population  to  protect. 
The  volumes  of  smoke  which  the  half-expiring 
embers  emitted,  while  they  marked  the  site  of  the 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  159 

peasant's  humble  cottage,  bore  testimony  to  the 
extent  of  the  work  of  destruction.  For  several 
successive  evenings  the  cattle  assembled  around 
the  smouldering  ruins,  as  if  in  anxious  expectation 
of  the  return  of  their  masters  ;  while  all  night  long 
the  faithful  watch-dogs  of  the  Neutrals  howled  over 
the  scene  of  desolation,  and  mourned  alike  the  hand 
that  had  fed,  and  the  house  that  had  sheltered 
them." 

Thus  far  Halliburton.  And  perhaps  it  will  not 
be  expected  to  add  to  a  picture  sketched  by  such  a 
masterly  hand.  He  allows  "  that  all  good  men 
have  agreed  to  condemn  ihe  treatment  of  the  Aca- 
dians,"  who,  he  avers,  "  were  scattered  in  distant 
provinces,  in  the  hope  that  in  time,  their  manners, 
language,  and  predilections  would  be  changed,  and 
even  the  recollection  of  their  origin  lost ;  "  and 
adds,  "  it  was  doubtless  a  stain  upon  the  provincial 
councils"  This  would  seem  to  imply  that  it  was 
concerted  and  concocted  in  the  provinces,  when  it 
was  certainly  known,  and  he  himself  admits  in 
another  place,  that  it  was  decided  on  by  the  King, 
"to  whom  they  had  referred."  He  apologises, 
however,  for  the  English  government  resorting  to 
such  extremities,  because,  "  had  the  milder  sen 
tence  of  unrestrained  exile  been  passed  upon  them, 
it  would  have  had  the  effect  of  recruiting  the 
strength  of  Canada  ;  and  because  in  those  days  of 
religious  rancor,  it  was  deemed  impossible  for  Eng 
lish  colonists  to  mingle  with  papists  or  Frenchmen." 

When  we  reflect  upon  the  ease  with  which  the 
French  and  Spanish  inhabitants  of  Louisiana  and 
the  Floridas  have  conformed  to  the  new  order  of 
things  since  they  became  citizens  of  the  United 
States,  we  are  in  amazement  that  it  should  have 
been  deemed  a  difficulty  to  effect  that,  which,  with 
out  any  coercion,  has  been  accomplished  by  our 
government,  arid  in  a  much  shorter  space  of  time. 


160  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

It  proves  the  truth  of  the  old  adage,  "  easier  drawn 
than  driven." 

We  must  go  back  a  few  days  in  our  story,  to 
speak  of  the  affairs  of  Annapolis  and  Cumberland, 
where  the  proclamation  excited  great  feeling  among 
the  inhabitants.  A  report  had,  by  some  means  or 
other,  reached  the  Neutrals  of  that  region,  that  they 
were  to  be  carried  prisoners  to  Halifax  ;  and,  in 
stead  of  assembling,  as  they  were  directed,  the  ter 
rified  inhabitants  fled  in  all  directions.  A  very 
considerable  number  from  Cumberland  district  es 
caped  to  Canada  by  the  way  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
which,  it  will  be  recollected,  lies  east  of  that  dis 
trict,  and  flows  through  the  straits  of  Northumber 
land.  When  the  ships  came  to  receive  them,  the 
houses  were  deserted,  and  the  people  had  fled  to  the 
woods  with  their  wives  and  little  ones.  Hunger, 
fatigue,  and  distress  compelled  many  to  return  and 
surrender  themselves  as  prisoners,  while  others  re 
tired  to  the  depths  of  the  forest  and  encamped  \\  ,  h 
the  Indians,  and  others  wandered  away  through  the 
forests  to  Chegnecto,  from  whence  they  escaped  to 
Canada.  To  Annapolis,  Louis  the  elder  had  retreat 
ed  in  his  flight.  He  had  tried  in  vain  in  other 
places  to  arouse  the  slumbering  spirit  of  resistance, 
but  here  circumstances  favored  him.  He  had  ex 
tensive  connexions  at  one  of  the  settlements,  near 
the  forests  to  which  the  fugitives  retreated,  and 
having  occasion  to  cross  it  on  his  route,  he  acciden 
tally  stumbled  upon  their  covert.  He  was  just  in 
the  humor  to  counsel  resistance,  and  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  do  so.  But,  alas  !  weapons  of  defence 
they  were  destitute  of,  unless  it  was  the  spade  ar.d 
the  scyhe.  These,  however,  as  a  last  resort,  they 
secured,  bearing  them  with  their  goods  to  the 
woods,  and  were  busy  in  removing  every  thing 
they  judged  would  be  useful  to  them,  to  the  remote 
recesses  of  the  forest,  until  the  very  day  the  ships 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  161 

Arrived.  The  officer  sent  to  bring  them  on,  accord 
ing  to  directions,  immediately  on  discovering  they 
had  fled,  gave  orders  to  fire  their  dwellings,  and 
two  hundred  and  fifty-three  dwelling-houses,  with 
their  contents,  and  also  the  outhouses,  were  con 
sumed  at  once.  Among  other  things  of  value, 
great  quantities  of  wheat  and  flax  were  consumed 
in  this  region.  (See  Winslow's  Journal.) 

Dreadful  as  were  the  feelings  of  the  inhabitants 
who  beheld  from  the  adjoining  woods  the  destruc 
tion  of  their  property,  yet  they  still  continued  quiet 
in  their  retreat,  the  soldiers  not  daring  to  enter  the 
wood  for  fear  of  an  ambuscade.  At  length,  when 
every  kind  of  property  they  could  lay  hands  on  was 
consumed,  they  attempted  to  fire  the  chapel.  And 
then  it  was,  that,  when  adding  insult  to  injury,  the 
feelings  of  the  people  became  almost  maddened. 
Louis,  seizing  an  axe,  dashed  from  the  covert,  fol 
lowed  by  some  hundreds  of  the  male  population, 
armed  with  spades,  axes,  scythes,  and  crowbars, 
and  rushing  upon  the  soldiers  unawares,  dealt  their 
blows  about  with  such  good  effect,  that,  in  a  few 
moments,  about  thirty  rank  and  file  were  lying  dead 
upon  the  ground,  besides  a  number  wounded  •  and 
ere  the  astonished  soldiery  could  recover  themselves, 
they  retreated  again  to  the  wood,  and  remained 
masters  of  the  field,  their  enemies,  not  daring  to 
follow  them,  backed  out  as  fast  as  possible.  In 
short,  such  was  the  dread  of  falling  into  the  hands 
of  the  English,  in  these  last  regions,  that  the  decree 
was  resisted  ;  and  of  eighteen  thousand  persons  at 
least,  only  seven  thousand  were  secured  at  this 
time  in  the  whole  country.  These  were  crowded 
together  in  the  ships  provided,  with  most  indecent 
haste,  and,  as  with  those  of  Grand  Free,  without 
any  regard  to  the  feelings  of  families.  Many  of 
whom,  afterwards,  were  scattered  about  through 
the  different  provinces,  among  entire  strangers, 
14* 


162  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

while  weeping  mothers  and  mourning  fathers  and 
husbands  were  wandering  about  from  place  to  place, 
in  search  of  those  whom,  in  many  instances,  they 
were  destined  never  to  meet  again  on  this  side  the 
grave.  Alas !  the  half  of  the  woes  of  this  deeply 
afflicted  people  can  never  be  told.  When  all  that 
could  be  collected  were  embarked,  as  we  before 
stated,  the  whole  number  amounted  to  seven  thou 
sand,  one  thousand  of  whom  were  from  the  imme 
diate  neighborhood  of  the  family  of  St.  Pierre. 
One  thousand  of  the  whole  were  destined  for  the 
province  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  and  with  these  the 
fair  and  magnanimous  Pauline  had  the  happiness  to 
be  embarked ;  happy,  we  call  it,  because  the  voy 
age,  though  a  rough  one,  was  short  compared  to 
that  of  Virginia,  Philadelphia,  &c.  We  shall  leave 
Louis  the  elder  encamped  in  the  forest  with  the 
company  of  fugitives,  waiting  for  a  chance  to  get 
to  Canada,  and  turn  to  the  scene  of  destruction  and 
desolation  at  Grand  Pree. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  that  had  witnessed 
the  expulsion  of  the  unoffending  Neutrals,  Colonel 
Winslow,  pleading  fatigue,  excused  himself  from 
the  mess,  and  retired  alone  to  his  apartment  to 
repose.  The  excitement  of  the  occasion  had  sub 
sided.  The  unresisting  victims  of  his  will  had 
been  driven  out  before  him.  He  had  seen  the  last 
embark.  He 'had  witnessed  the  pity,  the  forbear 
ance,  the  wonderful  fortitude  of  these  people  ;  and 
he  could  not  but  ask  himself,  if  his  fate  had  been 
like  theirs,  whether  he  would  have  borne  it  as  they 
did  ?  Conscience  answered  no.  Again,  he  had  been 
deceived  altogether,  as  respected  the  character  of 
these  persecuted  beings.  He  had  accustomed  him 
self  to  consider  them  as  quarrelsome,  rebellious,  and 
refractory  ;  and  his  astonishment  was  great  at  find 
ing  them  quiet,  industrious,  and  inoffensive,  caring 
but  little  what  government  they  lived  under,  so 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  163 

long  as  they  were  not  molested  in  their  individual 
concerns.  Conscience  asked  the  question,  whether 
he  had  done  right  in  the  first  place,  to  engage  in 
such  an  unholy  undertaking  ?  He  could  not  con 
ceal  from  himself  that,  for  cruelty  and  ruthless  bar 
barity,  it  exceeded  any  thing  he  had  ever  heard  of 
among  Christian  nations,  and  that  he  had  used  his 
discretionary  powers  to  inflict  unnecessary  pain,  by 
the  separation  of  families  from  each  other,  and  the 
destruction  of  much  property  that  might  safely  and 
conveniently  have  been  transported  with  them, 
and  subsisted  them  for  many  a  month,  instead  of 
being  reduced  to  the  situation  of  paupers,  as  he 
foresaw  many  would  be.  He  could  not  but  con 
trast  the  situation  of  those  people  with  that  of  his 
own  cherished  family  at  his  pleasant  fireside,  and 
think  of  the  possibility  of  the  sins  of  the  father 
being  visited  upon  the  children.  For  all  the  wealth 
that  ever  flowed  from  England  into  Massachusetts 
Bay,  we  would  not  have  been  a  prey  to  the  reflec 
tions  of  this  man  on  that  night.  Nor  was  there  any 
consoling  reflection,  except  the  anticipation  of  favors 
and  honors  from  his  sovereign,  as  he  termed  the 
King  of  England.  The  command  to  "call  no  man 
lord,"  no  man  master  on  earth,  not  being  then  un 
derstood  in  the  favored  land  he  had  the  happiness 
to  reside  in,  and  in  the  very  province  too.  which, 
twenty  years  after,  was  the  first  to  make  the  dis 
covery. 

A  bright  and  beautiful  morning  succeeded  to  a 
rough  and  stormy  night,  and  Colonel  Winslow  felt 
an  unconquerable  desire  to  survey  the  scene  of  des 
olation  he  had  been  the  agent  of  producing  •  and 
summoning  a  faithful  attendant  who  had  been  some 
time  in  the  neighborhood,  and  was  acquainted  with 
all  its  localities,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  proceeded 
to  explore  the  region.  The  attendant  was  quite  an 
intelligent  fellow,  for  one  in  his  station,  and  had 


164  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

acquired  considerable  knowledge  of  the  different 
families  in  the  vicinity.  Nor  was  he  backward  in 
imparting  what  he  knew,  and  pointing  out  to  "  his 
honor"  where  the  widow  lived  "  whose  only  son 
was  removed  on  his  bed,  and  died  on  the  beach  last 
night  j  "  or  where  "  the  happy  couple  resided  who 
went  off  crazy,  please  your  honor,  at  being  torn 
from  each  others  arms,  and,  to  complete  their  mise 
ry,  seeing  their  only  child  carried  off  in  a  third 
vessel." 

Sick  of  the  scene,  and  wearied  with  his  long 
ride,  the  commander  at  length  paused  upon  a  beau 
tiful  plot  of  ground  in  front  of  what  had  once  been 
a  house  of  very  considerable  dimensions.  The 
blackened  walls  of  the  cellars,  and  the  huge  stone 
chimney,  which  looked  like  some  frowning  giant, 
were  all  that  remained  of  it.  But  a  beautiful  gar 
den,  laid  out  with  singular  taste,  and  evidently 
cultivated  with  much  industry,  at  once  attracted  his 
observation  ;  the  finely  embowered  walks,  adorned 
with  the  latest  flowers  of  the  season,  many  of  them 
still  in  bloom  ;  the  fruits,  late  in  this  region,  still 
hung  in  clusters  on  the  trees,  those  only  which 
were  near  the  house  having  suffered  from  the 
scorching  effects  of  the  fire.  Dismounting,  he 
walked  across  the  lawn,  and  immediately  found 
himself  surrounded  by  flocks  of  poultry  that  jump 
ed  familiarly  upon  his  arms  and  shoulders,  proclaim 
ing  at  once  the  familiarity  with  which  they  had 
been  treated,  and  asking  from  his  hand  the  food 
they  had  been  accustomed  to  receive.  There  is 
something  in  the  sufferings  of  dumb  nature  inex 
pressibly  touching,  when  coupled  with  a  display  of 
almost  human  intelligence.  The  effect  was  irre 
sistible,  and  the  Colonel,  shaking  off  the  harmless 
creatures,  felt  the  tears  gathering  in  his  eyes.  Leav 
ing  the  ruin  of  the  house,  which  the  attendant  told 
him  was  owned  by  one  Gasper  St.  Pierre,  he  opened 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  165 

a  little  wicker-gate,  and  entered  a  secluded  copse. 
A  bower,  covered  with  vines,  was  at  the  end  of  it. 
To  this  he  retreated,  and,  throwing  down  his  hat, 
sat  down  upon  a  rustic  bench  to  refresh  himself. 
His  eye  was  immediately  attracted  by  a  piece  of 
paper  lying  on  the  ground  ;  and,  hastily  snatching 
it  up,  he  read  these  words : 

"  Torn  from  our  loved  and  cherished  homes, 
Do  thou,  O  Lord,  still  guard  this  spot ; 
But  may  our  wrongs,  though  we  are  gone, 
Remembered  be.     Forget  them  not. 

And  when  we  go  to  lands  unknown, 

Wilt  thou  protect  us  on  the  deep  ; 
Be  with  us,  Saviour,  every  morn, 

Although  we  only  wake  to  weep. 

But.  Great  Jehovah,  hear  our  prayer  ! 

May  he  who  works  a  tyrant's  will, 
Who  boldly  lifts  his  hand  to  swear, 

He  will  that  tyrant's  laws  fulfill, 

Live  with  a  guilty  conscience  goaded, 

By  every  pang  the  heart  can  feel  ; 
Live,  by  the  very  Power  derided, 

Whose  gold  has  turned  his  heart  to  steel ; 

Live,  till  the  land  he  boasts  his  own, 

Has  felt  the  iron  rod  of  power ; 
And  cursed,  in  bitterness  of  soul  " — 


Something  had  evidently  interrupted  the  writer, 
the  lines  were  left  in  an  unfinished  state  •  but  the 
word  ;'  Pauline,"  scribbled  on  the  back  side,  suffi 
ciently  proved  whose  composition  it  was. 

"  So,  pretty  Pauline,  thou  hast  cursed  me,  too. 
Well,  that  was  ungrateful ;  for  sure  I  am  I  could 
not  have  cursed  thee,  though  much  I  fear  thy  sur 
passing  beauty,  more  than  thy  mental  superiority, 
would  have  prevented.  But,  in  good  truth,  thou 
wert  a  prodigy,  and  it  were  a  pity  that  so  fair  a 
form  should  grace  an  almshouse.  And  what  other 
destiny  awaits  any  of  you,  by  my  faith  I  cannot 


166  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

tell.  But,"  and  he  mused,  "  it  is  a  pity,  pity  ! 
Halloo,  there,  Andrew  ?  " 

Andrew  soon  appeared,  thrusting  his  sunburnt 
face  through  the  bushes. 

"  Andrew,  dost  know  which  vessel  this  old  Gas 
per  and  his  grand-daughter  went  in  ?  for  I  suppose 
it  was  the  blind  man  who  lived  here." 

"  Why,  please  your  honor,  I  cannot  tell.  I  ohly 
know  I  heard  Madam  St.  Pierre  lamenting  being 
separated  from  her  daughter,  and  heard  another  say 
she  went  in  the  other  vessel  to  attend  her  grand 
father  ;  and  Madam  St.  Pierre  lifted  up  her  hands 
and  said,  '  God  will  bless  her.' ' 

"  Then  Madarn  St.  Pierre  was  Pauline's  mother, 
and  you  cannot  recollect  which  vessel  carried  either, 
whether  to  Boston,  Philadelphia,  or" — 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Andrew,  "  for  I  never  knew 
to  recollect.  I  only  know  they  got  separated,  as 
many  more  did  beside." 

The  attention  of  the  two  was  now  attracted  by 
the  appearance  of  a  beautiful  little  French  dog, 
which  came  bounding  through  the  bushes,  and 
wagging  his  tail,  as  though  rejoiced  to  meet  a  hu 
man  being  in  these  now  deserted  regions. 

"  It  is  Pauline's,"  said  Andrew ;  your  honor 
knows  no  dog  was  permitted  them  to  carry,  and  I 
believe  his  name  is  Sappho.  You  see  he  answers 
to  the  name.  Poor  little  fellow,  so  you  too  must 
perish  here.  Will  your  honor  please  to  let  me 
shoot  him  ?  it  would  be  such  a  mercy." 

"  No.  Andrew,  he  is  such  a  rare  animal,  and  so 
very  pretty,  I  think  I  will  keep  him.  You  may 
take  him  to  quarters." 

Andrew  departed  with  the  dog  under  his  arm, 
the  little  animal  suffering  himself  to  be  taken  unre 
sistingly. 

As  they  went  out  of  the  wicker-gate  the  cattle, 
attracted  by  the  sound  of  a  human  voice,  began  to 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  167 

gather  round  ;  and  the  cows,  with  distended  udders, 
appeared  looking  anxiously  for  the  hand  accustomed 
to  relieve  them. 

"  Poor  creatures,"  said  Andrew  ;  "  if  it  were  not 
for  scaring  the  dog,  I  would  shoot  two  or  three  of 
you,  it  would  be  such  a  mercy.  But  never  mind," 
added  he.  mounting  his  horse,  "  you  will  die  quick 
enough  when  it  comes  cold  weather." 

This  was  all  unheard  by  the  commander,  to 
whose  mind's  eye  the  beautiful  and  high-spirited 
Pauline,  bending  beneath  the  task  of  some  imperi 
ous  master,  was  now  present,  and  he  was  only 
wakened  from  his  reverie  by  Andrew  calling  out, 
as  though  he  divined  his  thoughts,  "  if  he  did  not 
think  it  was  a  pity  she  was  French  and  a  papist  ? " 


CHAPTER  XL 

"  Princes  and  lords  may  flourish  or  may  fade, 
A  breath  can  make  them,  as  a  breath  has  made; 
But  a  bold  yeomanry,  their  country's  pride, 
When  once  destroyed,  can  never  be  supplied." 

THE  winds  blew  furiously  and  howled  through 
the  shrouds  of  the  laboring  vessel,  whose  straining 
timbers  appeared  to  the  inexperienced  passengers 
threatening  every  moment  to  separate,  and  end  their 
sorrows  in  a  watery  grave.  The  waves  threw  up 
their  white  crests,  and  the  ocean  resounded  with 
that  hollow  roar  which  always  precedes  a  storm. 
Darkness,  the  most  intense,  settled  over  land  and 
sea,  but  nothing  had  apparently  disturbed  our  party. 
Still  holding  by  the  railing  of  the  vessel,  stood  the 
intrepid  Pauline.  She  could  not  withdraw  her  eyes 
from  the  direction  of  her  home,  her  forsaken  home. 
A  gleam  of  lightning  would  now  and  then  reveal  a 


168  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

portion  of  it,  and  while  a  glimpse  of  it  could  be 
caught,  ;t  was  a  gratification  she  could  not  forego, 
though  for  the  most  part  the  thick  darkness  covered 
all.  Since  night  had  closed  in,  sickness  and  terror 
had  driven  most  of  the  women  below,  where,  with 
their  children  of  all  ages,  they  were  piled  about  the 
cabin  floor  in  lamentable  confusion  and  discomfort. 
Old  Gasper  had  quietly  seated  himself  at  the  feet 
of  his  grand-daughter.  To  him  "  the  darkness  and 
light  were  both  alike  ;  "  and  so  that  his  beloved 
grandchild  was  near,  he  could  endure  any  thing. 

Suddenly  a  bright  light  was  discoverable  from 
the  shore,  which  increased  every  moment,  and  to 
the  astounded  gaze  of  the  horror-stricken  Pauline 
discovered  the  spire  of  the  chapel,  which,  with  the 
body  of  the  building,  was  now  one  sheet  of  flame. 
An  involuntary  expression  of  amazement  and  horror 
escaped  the  lips  of  Pauline,  while  the  soldiers  raised 
a  shout  of  triumph  at  the  fall  of  the  "  Babylonish 
temple,"  as  they  denominated  it. 

"  Hurrah  !  there  she  goes,  mother  of  abomina 
tions,"  shouted  one. 

"  Rejoice  thou  heaven  and  ye  holy  angels,"  said 
a  follower  of  Whitefield,  who  was  standing  near  ; 
"  I  wish  I  had  been  there  to  have  witnessed  the 
fall." 

"  Fall  of  what  ?  "  said  Pauline,  comprehending 
only  the  last  part  of  the  sentence. 

"  Why.  of  your  temple,  or  whatever  you  call  it," 
said  he  ;  "  that  place  of  all  abominations,  where 
idolatry  and  every  thing  else  was  practised,  if  report 
says  true.  You  may  count  it  a  very. great  blessing, 
young  woman,  to  have  been  driven  out  of  such  a 
place." 

Pauline,  disdaining  a  reply,  was  silent. 

"  You  see,"  said  a  voice  which  she  immediately 
recognised  to  be  that  of  the  gallant  corporal  who 
admitted  her  to  the  chapel,  "  it  was  decided  to- 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  169 

burn  that  old  papistical  place  after  you  came  away, 
as  the  commander  thought  it  not  best  before.  He 
did  not  want  such  a  time  as  they  had  in  the  other 
place  there,  where  thirty  or  forty  of  our  soldiers  were 
killed  by  them  murderous  fellows,  the  French." 

"  Possible  !  "  said  Pauline.  "  I  was  not  aware 
that  any  resistance  had  been  offered  by  our  people 
in  either  place." 

"  Very  well,  we  did  not  intend  you  should  know 
it,  my  pretty  dear  :  for  as  they  all  escaped  into  the 
woods  again,  who  knows  what  it  might  have  put 
into  your  heads  ?  As  to  old  daddy,  I  don't  'spose 
there  is  much  fear  of  his  rising." 

Pauline,  not  noticing  the  allusion  to  her  grand 
father,  asked  and  obtained  something  like  a  history 
of  the  transaction  alluded  to,  with  the  additional 
information  that  the  ringleader,  who  had  also  es 
caped,  was  one  Louis,  who  had  previously  escaped 
from  the  guard-house  at  Grand  Pree,  and  would 
have  been  shot,  if  taken  before  he  fled  there  to 
head  a  rebellion  ;  adding,  "  that  same  fellow,  armed 
only  with  an  axe,  killed  the  officer  and  several  pri 
vates  with  his  own  hand." 

Pauline  drew  in  her  breath.  She  perceived  clear 
ly  she  was  not  recognised  as  his  daughter,  and 
assured  of  the  safety  of  her  father,  she  now  felt 
the  necessity  of  withdrawing,  lest  some  expression 
from  herself  or  her  grandfather  might  reveal  the 
interest  they  felt  in  the  fate  of  the  man  who  had 
made  such  efforts  to  avenge  his  countrymen. 

As  to  Gasper,  he  submitted  to  be  quietly  led 
wherever  his  grand-daughter  thought  best,  and  she 
now  obtained  one  bunk,  which  was  all  that,  in  the 
crowded  state  of  the  vessel,  could  be  allotted  her. 
Here  she  placed  him,  and  sitting  down  by  his  side, 
kept  her  watch  through  that  awful  night,  holding 
on  to  steady  herself,  for  the  storm  raged  without, 
and  the  rolling  and  pitching  of  the  vessel  in  the 
15 


170  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

Bay  of  Fundy  was  dreadful.  But  so  exhausted 
was  her  poor  blind  grandfather,  that  he  slept  sound 
ly,  though  it  required  all  the  efforts  of  his  gentle 
attendant  to  prevent  his  being  thrown  out.  several 
times.  As  only  a  part  could  lie  down  at  a  time, 
she  had  plenty  of  company  awake.  Many  an  anx 
ious  mother  was  watching  her  little  ones  as  they 
slept  on  the  only  couch  that  could  be  obtained  for 
the  whole  family.  But  if  their  anxiety  was  great, 
what  must  have  been  the  feelings  of  those  who 
had  been  separated  from  their  little  ones,  and  com 
pelled  to  go  in  a  different  conveyance.  There 
were  many  such,  and  some  children  who  had  no 
relatives  to  take  care  of  them,  and  were  indebted 
to  the  kindness  of  others  for  food  and  lodging. 

It  had  been  a  great  grief  to  Pauline,  that  she 
could  not  be  permitted  to  go  in  the  same  vessel 
with  her  mother  and  sister  ;  but  the  most  distant 
surmise  that  they  were  not  going  to  the  same  port, 
had  never  entered  their  head.  That  pang  had  been 
spared  her,  and  she  anticipated  the  happiness  of 
meeting  her  beloved  mother  and  sister  as  soon  as 
they  should  arrive  at  Boston.  Towards  morning 
the  wind  lulled,  and  her  grandfather,  according  to 
his  custom,  arose,  when  Pauline,  taking  his  place, 
procured  a  few  hours'  repose. 

A  brilliant  sun  had  arisen  after  the  storm,  and 
was  high  in  the  heavens  before  she  awoke  and 
sought  her  grandfather.  She  found  him  on  deck, 
and  was  happy  to  perceive  that  such  was  the  vene 
ration  in  which  he  was  held,  he  did  not  want  atten 
tions  in  this  their  hour  of  need. 

The  strife  of  the  elements  had  subsided.  The 
tempest  passed  over  without  injury.  But  that  which 
had  passed  over  this  people,  had  made  fearful  rava 
ges  ;  had  left  marks  of  violence,  of  desolation  and 
destruction  behind,  which  no  after  sunshine  could 
repair.  The  tempest  of  soul  had  been  such  that  it 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  171 

seemed  almost  to  have  shaken  reason  from  her 
throne,  with  many  of  them.  Nothing  could  exhibit 
a  scene  of  greater  misery  and  despondency  than 
that  presented  by  the  different  groups  that  compos 
ed  the  passengers  of  this  transport.  The  deepest 
affliction  marked  their  every  look  and  action.  There 
was  resignation,  but  it  was  the  resignation  of  de 
spair.  A  languor,  a  perfect  stupor,  seemed  to  have 
seized  upon  the  faculties,  mental  and  corporeal,  of 
most  of  the  females.  They  would  sit  for  hours, 
gazing  upon  vacancy,  utterly  regardless  of  every 
thing  around  them,  until  aroused  by  the  cries  of  an 
infant,  or  the  necessities  of  some  one  to  whom  they 
were  called  to  minister,  and  it  then  seemed  to  be  a 
great  effort. 

Pauline  had  been  so  thoughtful  as  to  get  many 
comfortable  necessaries  on  board,  as  also  a  part  of 
their  movables ;  many  she  had  been  compelled  to 
leave,  from  the  fear  of  the  officers  about  loading 
the  vessel.  Such  as  she  had,  though,  particularly 
the  beds,  she  found  most  useful.  Their  little  stores 
were  untouched,  as  rations  were  allowed  all  from 
the  abundant  spoil  carried  on  board.  Many  of  the 
passengers  were  distressingly  sick  through  the  voy 
age,  which  lasted  a  week. 

The  port  of  Boston  was  at  length  visible  to  their 
longing  eyes  :  for,  much  as  they  dreaded  landing  in 
a  strange  place,  and  the  thousand  evils  they  antici 
pated,  it  was  a  relief  to  most  of  them.  Some  had 
been  praying  "  to  go  to  the  bottom  before  they 
could  enter  an  English  harbor ; "  yet,  even  to 
these,  reviving  hope  lent  a  momentary  energy,  as 
they  entered  the  harbor  of  one  of  the  most  pictu 
resque  cities  in  the  world,  certainly  the  most  on 
the  whole  continent  of  America  :  for,  although 
Boston  was  not  then  what  it  is  now,  as  respects  the 
improvements  of  art,  yet  its  natural  beauties  were 
great,  and  appeared  not  the  less  lovely  to  those  who 


172  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

had  been  tossed  seven  or  eight  days  on  a  tempestu 
ous  sea.  Distressed  as  was  our  fair  heroine,  yet 
such  was  her  keen  perception  of  the  beauties  of 
nature,  that  she  viewed  the  scene  before  her  with 
an  admiration,  that,  under  different  circumstances, 
would  have  been  rapture. 

"  And  is  this,"  she  asked,  "  the  fair  land  which, 
I  had  almost  said,  a  partial  God  has  bestowed  upon 
the  English  ?  and  could  not  such  a  mighty  gift 
satisfy  the  rapacity  of  their  desires  ?  " 

The  question  was  addressed  to  a  young  officer 
who  stood  near,  and  a  mournful  smile  was  her  only 
answer. 

"  Alas  !  "  sighed  Pauline,  after  a  momentary 
pause,  "  could  they  not  have  been  satisfied,  with 
out  disturbing  our  peaceful  and  unoffending  people  ? 
It  would  not  be  strange,  if  the  time  should  come 
when  the  barbarities  practised  upon  us  should  be 
visited  upon  those  who  are  the  instruments  of  tyr 
anny,  until  they  shall  curse  even  the  name  of  a 
king.  It  would  not  be  strange,  if  torrents  of  blood 
should  yet  be  made  to  flow,  in  expiation  of  this  sin. 
I  doubt  not  God  is  just,  though  he  has  permitted 
this,  and  his  vengeance  is  sure,  if  slow.  Believe 
me,  Sir,  I  had  rather  be  the  poor,  houseless,  home 
less  exile  that  I  am,  than  the  wealthiest  sinner  con 
cerned  in  this  business." 

"  Dear  ma'am,"  said  the  young  man,  "  let  me 
beseech  you,  be  cautious  ;  remember  you  are  now 
in  an  enemy's  country.  From  my  soul  I  pity  you 
all ;  but,  with  the  exception  of  myself,  none  ap 
pears  to  feel  for  your  people.  If,"  said  he,  drawing 
near  and  speaking  in  a  low  voice,  "  if  I  could  have 
made  my  escape  from  the  detestable  task  I  have 
been  engaged  in,  I  should  have  done  it ;  and  when 
we  get  to  shore  I  will  endeavor  to  befriend  you. 
Be  patient." 

As  they  neared  the  port,  (which,  alas !  was  three 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  1?3 

days  after  this,)  the  tall  spires  of  the  churches,  the 
numerous  shipping  that  lined  the  wharves,  the  ex 
tent  of  the  buildings,  the  hum  of  business,  and  the 
universal  bustle  going  on,  so  new  to  most  of  them, 
seemed  for  a  few  moments  to  elicit  their  admira 
tion  :  but  the  effect  was  brief,  and  again  the  sense 
of  their  lonely  and  deserted  state  pressed  upon  them 
with  overwhelming  force. 

It.  had  been  a  matter  of  surprise  to  Pauline,  that 
two  or  three  of  the  vessels  in  which  their  company 
embarked,  kept  within  sight  of  each  other  :  and 
now,  as  they  all  drew  up,  and  were  joined  by  seve 
ral  others  that  lay  in  the  offing,  she  discovered,  to 
her  dismay,  that  half  only  of  those  who  were  ship 
ped  at  Grand  Free  were  arrived  or  expected,  one 
thousand  of  them  only  being  ordered  to  Boston. 
(Two  of  the  seven  thousand  then  shipped  were 
from  Grand  Pree.l 


CHAPTER  XII, 

"  Happy  the  man,  that  sees  a  God  employed 
In  all  the  good  and  ills  that  checker  life." 

SOME  temporary  shelter  had  been  erected  for  the 
wretched  exiles  on  an  unoccupied  piece  of  ground 
bordering  the  city,  which,  we  suppose,  must  have 
been  Boston  Common  ;  and  to  this  the  whole  com 
pany  were  marched,  followed  by  the  very  few 
goods  they  had  been  permitted  to  bring.  As  it  was 
early  in  the  day  when  they  landed,  the  whole  com 
pany  had  arrived  and  were  encamped  before  night. 
And  now  began  the  search  for  lost  relatives.  Here 
might  be  seen  a  wife  rushing  to  the  arms  of  her 
husband,  children  clinging  to  the  neck  of  a  parent, 


174  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

brothers  and  sisters  embracing,  and  neighbors  and 
friends  greeting  their  companions  in  misfortune  ; 
and  here,  too,  were  distracted  women  and  children, 
flying  from  tent  to  tent  in  search  of  those  who  had 
been  conveyed  to  distant  ports.  But  no  one  had 
Pauline  to  search  for  her.  Unable  to  leave  her 
infirm  charge,  whose  health  had  perceptibly  failed 
since  their  embarkation,  she  stood  still,  supporting 
her  poor  grandfather,  and  watching  the  moment 
when  a  brother  or  an  uncle  should  appear,  and  aid 
her  dear  mother  and  sister  to  her  arms ;  for  she 
could  not  but  believe  that  her  relations,  except  her 
father,  were  among  those  who  had  landed  from  the 
other  vessels ;  and  it  was  with  a  pang  amounting 
to  agony,  she  learnt  at  length  that  herself  and  grand 
father  were  the  only  ones  of  the  family  in  that 
region,, and  that  there  were  none  from  her  imme 
diate  neighborhood  except  a  few  helpless  women 
and  children,  who  embarked  in  the  same  vessel. 

We  pass  over  the  tears,  the  wringing  of  hands, 
and  exclamations  of  despair,  that  succeeded  this 
discovery.  Although  she  felt  the  utmost  need  of  a 
mother  and  brother's  care,  it  was  not  for  herself 
she  mourned  with  many  who  mourned  from  like 
cause.  It  was  for  her  dear  mother,  and  young, 
lovely,  and  affectionate  sister,  whose  knowledge  of 
the  English  language  was  very  inferior  to  her  own, 
and  whom  she  thought  less  able,  on  every  account, 
to  struggle  with  misfortune  than  herself.  She  pic 
tured  her  kindred  sold  into  slavery,  and  compelled 
to  serve  some  taskmaster  on  one  of  the  southern 
plantations  ;  for  of  them  she  had  often  heard  from 
her  youthful  admirer,  the  schoolmaster  ;  he,  too, 
was  not  here,  and  Pauline  felt  herself  almost  sink 
ing  under  her  heavy  weight  of  affliction. 

One  of  the  most  important  steps  was  taken  on 
this  evening  that  had  ever  been  taken  by  this  peo 
ple  ;  one  that  had  the  greatest  effect  upon  their 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  175 

after  lives  and  final  destiny.  It  was  to  call  them 
selves  "  prisoners  of  war.  and,  persevering  in  it,  to 
refuse  any  exertion  or  employment  whatever." 
The  object  contemplated  by  this  measure  was  to 
procure  an  exchange,  by  some  means  or  other,  to 
be  conveyed  to  France  or  some  French  port.  No 
one  could  blame  them.  In  fact  it  looked,  at  first 
view,  like  a  wise  and  prudent  determination ;  but 
could  the  frarners  of  it  have  foreseen  all  the  evils 
that  would  result  from  it,  they  would  have  been 
shocked  indeed.  That  memorable  evening  it  was 
announced  to  all  and  every  individual,  that  they 
must  consider  themselves  "  prisoners  of  war,  and 
that  no  one  of  them  must,  by  any  means,  consent 
to  labor  in  any  way  or  fashion,  or  be  useful  in  any 
employment."  This  agreement,  drawn  up  by  some 
of  the  most  educated  and  influential  of  the  Neutral 
French,  was  circulated  from  tent  to  tent,  requiring 
the  signature  of  every  person  capable  of  holding  a 
pen.  It  was  unhesitatingly  agreed  to  and  signed 
by  almost  every  individual ;  but  the  distress  of  the 
miserable  Pauline  was  so  great,  she  was  not  spoken 
to  on  the  subject,  and  they  doubtless  expected  full 
time  and  opportunity  to  do  so. 

A  committee,  appointed  by  the  town  of  Boston, 
waited  on  the  unfortunate  people  the  next  morning, 
to  ascertain  what  they  were  capable  of  doing  :  and 
numerous  families  of  the  aristocracy,  in  want  of 
good  house  servants,  very  considerately  offered  to 
receive  them  •  in  that  capacity;  but  they  were 
refused  with  sullen  indignation,  as  was  every  offer 
to  employ  them  ;  they  asserting  "  they  were  prison 
ers  of  ,war,  and  not  compelled  to  work."  In  short, 
after  every  argument  had  been  tried  without  effect, 
the  town  was  compelled  to  adopt  them  as  paupers, 
and  support  them  at  its  expense,  until  a  division 
could  be  made  for  each  town  in  the  State  (Province) 
to  take  its  proportionate  part.  Of  this  second  sep- 


176  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

aration,  the  unfortunate  people  were  then  in  igno 
rance  ;  but,  at  present,  the  public  almshouse  and 
orher  places  were  opened,  and  one  thousand  people 
thus  suddenly  became  a  public  charge. 

It  was  not  in  the  nature  of  Pauline  to  give  up  to 
despondency ;  and,  aided  by  the  wise  and  pious 
counsel  of  her  grandfather,  after  weighing  the  prob 
abilities  of  the  case,  and  the  positive  evil  of  being 
herded  in  an  almshouse,  she  adopted  the  resolution 
of  trying  to  subsist  by  her  own  efforts,  and  laboring 
to  provide  for  the  wants  of  herself  and  honored 
relative.  It  would,  she  felt,  be  no  small  effort  to 
announce  this  determination  to  her  people,  and  she 
wished,  if  possible,  to  get  rid  of  the  remonstrance 
and  persuasion  she  would  be  sure  to  encounter  if  it 
were  known,  as  all  argument,  she  rightly  judged, 
would  be  thrown  away  before  they  had  tried  the 
evils  they  were  then  courting. 

As  she  expected,  the  young  officer  who  had 
spoken  to  her  the  day  they  landed,  sought  her  out 
early  the  next  morning,  and  demanded  to  know 
"what  determination  she  had  formed  respecting  her 
future  destination  ?  "  She  unhesitatingly  replied, 
"  to  procure,  if  possible,  some  place  to  shelter  her 
self  in,  and  contrive,  by  some  kind  of  labor,  to 
subsist  herself  and  grandfather  until  some  better 
prospect  offered,  which,  if  once  more  united  to  her 
family,  she  should  not  despair  of."  The  young 
man  applauded  her  determination,  and  offered  to 
look  up  a  suitable  tenement,  and  interest  some  fam 
ilies  of  his  friends  to  supply  her  with  some  kind  of 
employment  she  was  competent  to. 

As  it  took  some  time  to  quarter  all  the  paupers 
thus  suddenly  thrown  upon  the  hands  of  the  Bos- 
tonians,  our  heroine  remained  unmolested,  though 
not  altogether  unnoticed,  until  the  next  day,  when 
the  young  man  again  appeared,  acquainting  her  he 
had  found  a  retired  little  place  for  a  very  cheap 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  177 

rent,  just  out  the  city,  on  the  opposite  side  the 
river  ;  that  she  would  be  better  off  there  than  in 
the  city,  as  the  air  was  more  pure,  and  like  what 
they  had  been  accustomed  to. 

It  was  fortunate  for  our  heroine  she  knew  so 
little  of  the  world  in  some  respects  ;  for,  otherwise, 
she  might  have  feared  to  trust  herself  to  the  guid 
ance  of  a  stranger,  a  young  gentleman  too,  and 
have  slighted  the  really  good  advice  and  disinter 
ested  efforts  of  a  friend,  for  such  he  proved  himself 
to  be.  Without  any  hesitation,  she  committed  her 
self  and  poor  old  Gasper  to  his  direction  ;  and  has 
tily  repacking  her  little  stores  she  had  so  carefully 
hoarded,  and  the  beds  and  few  articles  of  household 
goods  she  had  been  permitted  to  bring  with  her, 
suffered  herself  to  be  conducted  across  the  river, 
and  to  the  small  but  neat  little  cottage  of  two 
rooms  and  an  attic,  ready  to  receive  her.  The 
young  gentleman,  whose  name  was  Rodman,  did 
not  go  with  them,  but  directed  the  person  who 
moved  their  things  to  take  them  over  at  the  same 
time. 

The  first  thing  attended  to  by  this  dutiful  girl, 
was  to  make  her  grandfather  comfortable  in  the 
same  way  he  had  been  accustomed  at  home ;  the 
next,  to  put  her  simple  habitation  in  order,  which 
she  did  with  a  neatness  and  despatch  truly  aston 
ishing  ;  and  found,  by  blessed  experience,  that  em 
ployment  was  the  most  sovereign  remedy  for  grief. 

There  was  a  feeling  of  rest,  of  quietness,  of 
thankfulness,  and  almost  of  happiness  about  her, 
when  looking  round  and  comparing  her  lot  with 
others,  and  the  probable  fate  of  those  who  madly 
adhered  to  their  system  of  idleness,  that  would 
have  been  perfect,  could  she  have  known  the  fate 
of  her  beloved  relatives  ;  but  even  her  anxiety  on 
that  score  was  sensibly  diminished  by  the  words  of 
young  Rodman,  who  ridiculed  the  idea  of  any  white 


178  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

persons  being  made  slaves  ;  and  candidly  telling 
her  that,  if  her  friends  had  gone  South,  they  would 
probably  fare  all  the  better,  as  there  was  a  degree 
of  feeling,  of  kindness,  generosity,  and  hospitality 
there,  greatly  superior,  and  indeed  rarely  found  at 
the  North.  This  young  man  was  kind  enough  to 
call  on  the  succeeding  day,  bringing  two  good 
ladies  of  his  acquaintance,  who  engaged  to  find  as 
much  spinning  and  other  work  for  Pauline  as  she 
could  find  time  to  do,  and  also  "  to  write  to  the 
different  provinces  where  the  others  of  her  country 
men  were  distributed,  and  make  inquiries  of  their 
fate."  These  good  ladies  kept  their  word.  They 
often  visited  Pauline's  cottage,  and  were  struck  with 
her  unostentatious  piety,  and  the  greatness  of  mind 
she  manifested  under  such  complicated  misfortunes, 
as  much  as  they  had  with  her  beauty  and  elegance 
of  person,  and  they  could  not  endure  the  thought 
that  such  a  mind  should  remain  in  the  darkness  of 
of  popery.  But  in  vain  did  they  assail  her  faith. 
The  arguments  that  might  have  been  effectual 
under  different  circumstances,  were  thrown  away 
upon  one  who  had  seen  them  enforced  by  fire  and 
sword.  So  true  is  it  that  persecution  always  de 
feats  its  own  object.  She  might,  too,  have  given 
those  arguments  a  candid  hearing,  had  the  church 
of  which  she  was  a  member  have  been  in  prosper 
ity.  But  now  that  they  were  humbled  in  the  dust, 
their  altars  profaned,  their  temples  burned  to  the 
ground,  and  their  priests  hunted  out  like  wild 
beasts,  she  could  not  think  of  it.  No,  she  daily 
mourned  over  the  desolations  of  their  Zion,  and 
considered  all  their  people  as  martyrs  to  their  faith. 
So  uncompromising  had  been  the  hostility  of  the 
English  towards  the  Catholics,  that  Pauline  had 
concluded  it  to  be  occasioned  by  their  religion  alone, 
an  opinion  entirely  erroneous,  two  other  causes  ope 
rating  in  a  much  greater  degree  than  the  difference 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  179 

in  religion.  One,  as  we  have  shown,  was  the  abso 
lute  and  unmitigated  hatred  manifested  towards  the 
French  from  age  to  age  ;  a  sentiment  zealously 
inculcated  in  the  miud  of  every  child  born  of  Eng 
lish  parents,  as  soon  as  he  was  capable  of  enter 
taining  an  idea.* 

Nothing,  perhaps,  could  have  been  more  obnox 
ious  to  the  minions  of  despotism,  than  the  kind  of 
independence  possessed  by  this  'people.  An  inde 
pendent  peasantry,  the  rightful  proprietors  of  the 
soil,  living  in  a  state  of  equality  ;  their  lands  were 
their  own,  and  could  not  become  manorial,  and 
while  they  were  citizens  of  the  country,  nothing 
could  be  done  to  bring  them  into  that  state  of  sub 
jection  to  which  they  wished  to  reduce  them.  In 
vain  had  they  denied  them  legal  redress  for  illegal 
encroachments.  At  peace  with  themselves,  they 
kept  the  even  tenor  of  their  way,  and  made  what 
was  meant  for  a  curse  operate  as  a  blessing,  saving 
their  property,  time,  and  peace,  and  avoiding  the 
manoeuvring  of  that  rapacious  set  of  cormorants, 
whose  great  business  is  setting  every  man's  hand 
against  his  neighbor,  that  they,  a  third  party,  may 
corne  in  and  take  all. 

It  was  the  interest  of  the  priests,  undoubtedly,  to 
make  the  people  believe  they  were  martyrs  in  be 
half  of  their  church,  and  persecuted  wholly  on  the 
score  of  their  religious  tenets,  and  thus  endear  the 
rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  church  in  such  a  way 
as  no  arguments  should  ever  be  able  to  move.  Per- 


*  It  is  singular  that  this  feeling  of  animosity  was  continued 
down  to  the  time  that  France  was  without  a  legitimate  sovereign, 
when,  all  at  once,  England  discovered  she  loved  her  dearly,  and  in 
the  plenitude  of  her  affection,  took  to  her  bosom  the  before  hated 
Bourbons,  received  with  open  arms  her  ancient  nobility  and  gentry, 
the  supporters  of  the  bastile  and  inquisition,  and  fastening  again 
upon  France  the  chains  she  had  well  nigh  shook  off,  assisted,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  to  perpetuate  the  Catholic  religion  there. 


180  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

haps  many  of  them  honestly  thought  it,  and  were 
not  aware  of  the  deep  hatred  which  despotism  inva 
riably  discovers  towards  the  least  approach  to  inde 
pendence. 

Pauline  -was  pious,  truly  so  ;  nor  let  us  scoff5 
because  the  madonna  and  the  crucifix  adorned  her 
simple  habitation.  We  are  accustomed,  when  think 
ing  of  their  mode  of  worship,  to  accuse  them  of 
idolatry ;  and  the  mention  of  Catholicism,  by  a 
natural  association,  brings  up  the  images  of  monks 
and  nuns,  dungeons  and  inquisitions,  indulgences 
and  absolutions,  and  all  the  Jesuitical  jugglery  that 
has  been  practised  since  the  days  of  the  first  pope. 
But  let  us  recollect,  that  even  when  religion  in  the 
Catholic  church  was  at  the  lowest  ebb,  there  were 
some  good  ones,  as  witness  the  names  of  Massillon, 
Fenelon,  and  others.  And  if  there  v^ere  such  with 
in  the  vortex  of  a  court  too — that  sink  of  iniquity 
and  grave  of  all  that  is  upright  and  noble  in  man — • 
why  should  there  not  have  been  in  an  American 
wilderness  ?  The  simple  and  single-hearted  Aca- 
dians  knew  nothing  of  the  corruptions  of  their 
church,  nothing  of  its  former  persecuting  spirit. 
Their  religion  was  necessarily  of  the  simplest  form, 
for  it  was  such  as  the  savages  were  taught,  and 
such  as  they  could  comprehend.  The  early  set 
tlers  of  Acadia  had  discouraged  the  sending-  of 
French  Jesuits,  and  requested  the  court  of  France 
to  recall  one  or  two  they  had  sent,  and  they  were 
removed.  The  Catholic  priests  in  Acadia  were 
styled  pastors,  and  sometimes  elders  j  and  there  is 
no  account  of  any  excesses  or  immoralities  prac 
tised  by  them,  if  we  except  the  sweeping  charge 
of  the  English,  "  that  they  were  the  instigators  of 
the  barbarities  of  the  Indians."  (Q,uere.  As  the 
Acadians,  priests  and  people,  are  now  extinct,  who 
have  been  the  instigators  of  their  cruelties  since  ? 
From  that  time  down  to  the  present  ?)  Of  the 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  181 

Acadians,  it  is  presumable  they  were  a  sincere  and 
devout  people.  Their  behaviour,  when  driven  out 
from  that  land  which  was  honestly  their  inheri 
tance,  is  proof  sufficient,  since  the  virtues  of  pa 
tience,  meekness,  and  forbearance,  practised  on  that 
occasion,  could  only  be  the  fruit  of  a  Christian 
temper. 

The  little  stock  of  provisions,  &c.  in  the  possess 
ion  of  Gasper,  was  of  material  use  to  them,  as  it 
enabled  them  to  begin  the  world,  as  the  saying  is. 
And  though  young  Rodman  had  kindly  made  him 
self  responsible  for  the  rent  of  their  cottage,  he 
was  never  troubled  ;  as,  from  the  persevering  indus 
try  of  Pauline,  the  money  was  always  ready  at  the 
end. of  the  month.  The  ladies  not  only  continued 
their  supplies  of  work,  but  recommended  her  to 
others,  so  that  she  had  plenty  of  employment. 
Nevertheless,  it  could  not  but  be  obvious  to  these 
generous  women,  that  the  graceful  and  talented  girl 
Was  fitted  for  a  different  sphere  of  action  ;  and  it 
was  the  cause  of  many  consultations  among  them 
selves,  until  they  finally  concluded  that,  as  she 
spoke  and  read  French  so  well,  and  had  acquired  a 
competent  knowledge  of  the  English,  she  might  be 
made  useful  as  an  instructress,  and  a  French  teacher 
had  been  much  wanted  in  that  region.  Accordingly 
they  resolved,  finding  it  highly  agreeable  to  herself, 
to  look  her  up  a  class  to  study  the  language  under 
her  instruction.  There  was  one  difficulty  in  the 
way,  she  must  leave  her  aged  grandfather  often. 
The  class  were  to  meet  once  a  week  alternately  at 
each  others  houses,  and  once  a  week  she  was  to 
give  each  scholar  a  separate  lesson  at  their  own 
house.  It  would  be  necessary,  then,  to  look  up  a 
person  to  take  charge  of  him  during  her  absence, 
and  she  resolved  to  look  among  her  own  country- 
people  for  such  a  person.  A  benevolent  lady  in 
the  neighborhood  kindly  offered  to  take  her  over  to 


182  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

the  alrnshouse,  and  the  heart  of  this  good  woman  was 
wrung  at  witnessing  the  meeting  between  her  and 
the  squallid  wretches  who  flocked  around  her.  A 
division  had  been  made  among  them,  and  a  certain 
number  removed  to  each  town  for  support.  Among 
those  who  were  left,  there  had  been  quite  a  mor 
tality,  but  a  number  still  remained,  and  they  flocked 
around  Pauline,  amazed  at  her  healthy  and  happy 
appearance.  Each  was  eager  to  secure  the  place 
in  her  family,  but  the  sympathy  of  her  heart  led 
her  to  select  a  poor  widow  she  had  known  at  Grand 
Free.  This  person  had  two  very  young  children 
she  could  not  part  from  j  but  the  difficulty  was  ob 
viated  by  the  suggestion  of  the  good  lady,  who 
proposed  that  the  woman  should  go  on  with  the 
spinning,  &c..  that  Pauline  must  necessarily  aban 
don,  and  as  they  could  occupy  the  attic,  and  the 
children  attend  a  charity  school  near,  the  plan  was 
adopted. 

If  the  admiration  of  the  lady  patroness  was  great 
at  Pauline's  prudence  and  management,  what  must 
it  have  been  at  what  followed,  when  the  youthful 
monitor  turned  round  and  addressed  her  country- 
people  with  an  energy  and  pathos  that  drew  tears 
from  every  eye.  She  begged  them  to  reflect  "  they 
were  sacrificing  their  own  comfort  and  the  future 
welfare  of  their  children,  by  persisting  in  the  course 
of  indolence  and  inactivity  they  had  chosen  ;  "  dis 
played  to  them  "  the  folly  of  waiting  for  an  inter 
vention  in  their  favor  from  the  French  government, 
which  would  never  happen  ;  "  and  exhorted  them 
to  attempt  their  own  support,  narrating  to  them  the 
history  of  her  own  life  during  the  last  few  months. 
Her  remarks  were  received  with  much  feeling  and 
kindness  ;  some  promised  to  take  her  advice,  but 
many  still  held  out,  and  some  from  age  and  help 
lessness  were  constrained  to  remain. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  joy  of  the  poor  widow 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  183 

selected  to  be  a  member  of  her  family  ;  she  kissed 
her  hands,  and  exhibited  almost  frantic  exultation. 
The  two  pallid  children,  about  to  be  removed  from 
a  close  atmosphere,  showed  their  satisfaction  in  a 
different  way,  dancing  and  capering  about  with  the 
excess  of  their  joy.  The  arrangements  for  their 
removal  were  soon  made,  a  number  of  the  poor 
exiles  volunteering  to  assist  her  next  day.  The 
excellent  lady  who  accompanied  Pauline,  Mont 
gomery  by  name,  offered  to  take  one  of  the  most 
interesting  of  the  children  into  her  own  family, 
and  the  parents  consenting,  she  took  it  along  with 
her.  and  also  the  widow's  children.  The  downcast 
looks  of  the  poor  deserted  people  left  behind,  affect 
ed  her  very  sensibly,  and  she  asked  "  if  they  would 
work  if  habitations  could  be  procured  for  them. 
Most  of  them  assented,  and  promising  to  see  that 
something  was  done,  they  took  their  leave  freighted 
with  the  blessings  and  good  wishes  of  the  sad  com 
munity. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  But  now  the  blood  of  twenty  thousand  men 
Did  triumph  in  my  face,  and  they  are  fled  ; 
And  till  so  much  blood  hither  come  again, 
Have  I  not  reason  to  look  pale  and  dread  ?  " 

POOR  old  blind  Gasper,  whose  health  had  sensi 
bly  failed  since  his  first  landing,  had  been  left  alone, 
and  the  anxiety  of  Pauline  to  return  was  intense. 
The  day  was  raw  and  cold,  though  there  was  no 
snow  upon  the  ground.  As  they  rode  along,  the 
tormenting  fear  that  he  might  have  fallen  into  the 
fire,  or  met  with  some  accident,  seized  her.  What 
then  was  her  dismay  when  she  saw  the  carriage 


184  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

drive  up  to  a  store  in  Cornhill,  where  Mrs.  Mont 
gomery  had  some  shopping  to  do,  and  requested 
Pauline  to  go  in  with  her.  After  making  a  few 
purchases,  she  walked  on  a  little  further,  and  Pau 
line  returned  to  the  carriage  grieved  at  the  delay, 
but  not  daring  to  say  any  thing.  She  was  about 
to  ascend  the  step,  when  she  felt  her  gown  forcibly 
held  back.  Astonished,  she  turned  round  to  see 
what  the  rudeness  should  mean,  when  what  was 
her  surprise  and  delight  to  see  little  Sappho,  her 
dog  that  she  had  supposed  must  have  perished 
during  the  cold  winter,  even  if  he  did  not  with 
hunger  before.  She  was  not  permitted  to  bring 
him,  and  amidst  all  her  other  sorrows,  the  probable 
fate  of  this  little  favorite  had  given  her  many  a 
pang.  The  joy  of  the  little  animal  exceeded  all 
bounds.  A  thousand  conjectures,  all  wide  of  the 
truth,  crossed  the  brain  of  his  mistress,  as  to  how 
he  came  there.  Determined  to  hold  on  upon  him, 
at  all  hazards,  she  seized  him,  and  covering  •*.  u 
carefully  with  her  shawl,  sprang  into  the  carnage. 
Mrs.  Montgomery  corning  up  the  next  minute,  they 
drove  off ;  the  lady  praising  the  beauty  of  the  dog 
all  the  way,  and  admiring  the  incident,  which  she 
accounted  for  by  supposing  the  dog  had  hid  himself 
in  one  of  the  vessels,  and  accident  had  prevented 
her  seeing  him  before. 

The  joy  of  old  Gasper  exceeded  that  of  Pauline, 
as,  he  said,  he  had  now  a  companion  to  lead  him 
about,  without  being  a  constant  tax  to  her ;  but 
Pauline  told  him  she  had  provided  an  old  neighbor 
to  attend  to  his  wants.  The  widow  and  her  or 
phans  were  soon  domesticated  to  her  entire  satisfac 
tion,  so  that  Pauline  found  herself  greatly  relieved 
in  getting  rid  of  her  domestic  cares,  and  never  did 
she  have  reason  to  regret  the  good  action  of  receiv 
ing  these  little  orphans. 

As  to  good  Mrs.  Montgomery,  her  sensibilities 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  185 

were  not  exhausted  upon  this  family.  With  the 
help  of  some  of  her  friends,  she  found  some  suita 
ble  habitations,  where  she  transplanted  the  grateful 
Acadians,  and  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  the  objects 
of  her  bounty  prospered.  They  were  civil,  indus 
trious,  faithful,  and  honest,  and  possessed  hearts 
grateful  in  the  highest  degree.  Often  did  that  good 
lady  exclaim  in  indignation  against  the  cruel  edict 
that  drove  them  from  their  country,  and  threw 
them  destitute  upon  the  kindness  of  strangers.  The 
hardest  task  was  to  persuade  them  to  acquire  the 
English  language;  but  at  length  their  prejudices 
were  so  far  overcome,  and  the  necessity  of  the 
thing  so  apparent,  they  submitted  to  be  taught,  and 
some  benevolent  gentlemen  from  the  University 
volunteered  to  teach  them  twice  a  week.  The  pity 
expressed  by  Mrs.  M.  had  communicated  itself  to 
her  friends,  and  there  was  soon  no  difficulty  in 
finding  employment  of  various  kinds  for  these  poor 
people  ;  while  many  interesting  children  were  pro 
vided  for  in  good  families,  and  rescued  from  a  life 
of  misery  and  degradation. 

All  this  time  no  tidings  could  be  gained  of  Madam 
St.  Pierre  and  her  daughter,  but  Pauline  did  not 
despair ;  resolving  to  be  quiet,  and  remain  where 
she  was,  trusting  that  by  some  means  her  mother 
might  learn  her  place  of  residence  and  come  to  her. 
And  she  thought  they  might  be  better  provided  for 
here  than  in  any  other  place  ;  for  she  was  one  of 
the  few  who,  from  the  beginning,  never  expected 
again  to  see  her  native  land. 

Accustomed  by  degrees  to  her  new  employment, 
she  found  her  pupils  increasing  ;  and  having  access 
to  many  of  the  most  respectable  and  fashionable 
families,  she,  found  it  necessary  to  take  a  handsomer 
and  more  commodious  tenement.  This  was  done 
by  the  advice  of  Mrs.  Montgomery,  who  thought 
many  would  prefer  waiting  on  her  to  receiving  les- 
16* 


186  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

sons  in  their  own  house,  and  would  dislike  to  enter 
her  humble  abode. 

"  We  must  conform  to  circumstances,  dear  Pau 
line,"  she  would  say.  "  Hitherto,  yon  have  known 
nothing  of  the  pride  of  life,  and,  I  grieve  to  tell 
you,  you  will  soon  be  a  participator  of  this  sin, 
which,  I  speak  from  experience,  is  one  that  carries 
its  punishment  along  with  it,  since  it  imposes  a 
complete  slavery  :  nevertheless,  your  employment 
demands  this  sacrifice,  and — and  " — she  stopped 
herself  from  saying  she  felt  a  persuasion  she  was 
destined  for  something  higher  and  better  than  she 
had  yet  dreamed  of,  from  the  fear  of  exciting  an 
ambition,  and  holding  out  prospects,  that  might 
never  be  realized.  The  fear  of  exciting  pride  was, 
however,  unnecessary  with  her,  whose  whole  soul 
was  occupied  with  the  woes  of  her  people,  and  the 
idea  of  being  an  empress,  without  the  power  to 
benefit  them,  would  not  have  gratified  her  in  the 
least. 

In  many  houses  where  Pauline  was  accustomed 
to  attend,  she  had  to  wait  until  her  scholars  had 
got  through  their  music  lessons,  and  her  quick  car 
often  caught  the  tunes  before  the  scholars  could 
play  a  bar  of  it.  Nature  made  her  for  a  musician, 
but  the  simple  airs  of  her  native  vales  had  hitherto 
been  the  sum  total  of  her  music,  yet  she  sung  them 
with  a  melody  and  pathos  quite  enchanting.  On 
one  of  those  occasions  when  the  master  had  labored 
in  vain  with  a  careless  and  spoiled  child,  and  was 
about  to  give  it  up  in  despair,  the  little  minx,  turn 
ing  upon  him,  said, 

"  If  you  sang  as  sweetly,  and  was  as  gentle  as 
Miss  St.  Pierre,  I  could  learn  it." 

"  Indeed !  "  said  the  master,  a  cross  Englishman, 
for  the  first  time  looking  earnestly  at  Pauline,  "  I 
should  like  to  hear  the  lady." 

Mamma  and  her  daughter  now  began  to  persuade 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  IS? 

her  to  sing.  Pauline,  though  reluctant,  was  obliged 
to  comply.  At  their  request  she  sung  a  pastoral 
ballad,  composed  by  one  of  the  bards  of  her  native 
land,  and  though  the  music  teacher  could  not  un 
derstand  a  word  of  it,  he  was  in  raptures,  and 
would  not  be  satisfied  until  she  had  sung  another 
and  another  ;  and  finally  some  of  the  songs  in 
English  he  had  been  trying  to  teach  the  little  girl. 
He  protested  that  he  had  never  heard  such  power 
of  voice,  or  known  such  an  ear  for  music:  that  she 
should  learn  instrumental  music,  and  he  would  be 
her  instructor." 

"  On  condition,"  said  Mrs.  Courtland,  the  lady 
of  the  house,  ';  that  she  teaches  you  French." 

"  Oh,  of  course,  I  should  be  most  happy  to  recip 
rocate,"  said  he. 

"  Then  I  protest,"  said  Mrs.  C.,  "  you  shall  both 
learn  here,  for  I  think  Emma  would  learn  some 
thing  among  it  all,  having  two  beginners  to  go  along 
with,  one  in  each  branch." 

The  conversation,  began  sportively,  ended  in  se 
rious  earnest,  and  a  bargain  was  made  on  the  spot, 
that  the  two  beginners  should  meet  at  Mrs.  Court- 
land's  twice  a  week,  and  instruct  each  other  and 
Emma  at  the  same  time.  A  search  was  now  agreed 
on  for  an  instrument,  as  it  would  be  necessary  for 
Pauline  to  practice  at  home.  This  difficulty  was 
settled  by  Mrs.  Courtland,  who  had  sent  to  England 
for  a  new  harpsichord,  and  agreed,  as  soon  as  it 
arrived,  to  loan  the  old  one  to  Pauline.  It  soon 
arrived,  and  Pauline  felt  a  new  world  open  upon 
her.  She  was  not  one  of  those  who  have  to  toil 
so  hard  as  to  make  the  application  perfect  drudgery, 
and  by  such  laborious  application,  generally  become 
tired  before  they  have  fairly  learned.  The  rapidity 
of  her  acquisition  astonished  her  instructor,  whose 
teaching  could  scarcely  keep  pace  with  her  learn 
ing.  It  seemed  like  intuition,  or  rather  inspiration, 


19S  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

and  the  delirrhted  teacher  was  proud  to  show  off 
the  talent  of  his  new  scholar  whenever  opportunity 
offered  ;  and  by  this  means,  aided  by  the   sweet 
and  gentle  manners  of  Pauline,  she  became  gradu 
ally  known,  and  often  invited  into  circles  of  fashion. 
At  first,   people  invited  her  more   to  amuse  their 
friends,    but    she    could    not  fail    to  be  loved    for 
herself  alone,  when  once  the  intrinsic  excellencies 
of  her  character  were  known.     Little  Miss  Court- 
land,  who,  though  a  sad  romp,  was  a  most  affec 
tionate  and  grateful  child,  in  particular  delighted  to 
show  off  her  instructress,  under  whose  care  she  had 
become  an  excellent  French  scholar  and  a  tolerable 
performer  on  the  harpsichord  ;  and,  above  all,  she 
was  a  warm  admirer  of  beauty,  and  had  adopted 
the  opinion  that  Pauline  was  rather  the  handsomest 
female  she  had  ever  seen.     Whenever  they  visited 
together,  which  she  often  contrived  should  be  the 
case,  she  found  that,  sustained  and  upheld  by  her 
friend,  she  could  perform  her  part  in  many  difficult 
pieces,   which,   without  her  help,  she  must   have 
failed  in  ;  and  she  did  it  so  unostentatiously  too,  as 
though  she  were  the  person  assisted,  that  Emma 
gradually  acquired  a  confidence  in   herself  highly 
beneficial ;  and,  besides,  they  could  hold  a  conver 
sation  together,  that  few  persons  could  understand. 

Many  of  the  ladies  at  that  time,  in  Boston  and 
its  vicinity,  adopted  the  fashion  of  having  little 
concerts  at  their  houses,  and  in  fact  every  party 
usually  ended  with  one.  The  teacher  before  men 
tioned  was  the  master  of  ceremonies  for  the  most 
part,  and  Pauline  second. 

It  was  on  one  of  these  occasions,  a  brilliant  party 

given  by  Mrs.  ,  where  most  of  the  wealth 

and  fashion  of  Boston  were  invited,  that  our  hero 
ine,  accompanied  by  her  young  friend  Emma,  made 
her  appearance.  The  simplicity  of  her  dress  and 
manners  were  in  fine  contrast  with  her  dazzling 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  189 

beauty,  and  she  soon  found  herself  one  of  the  stars 
of  the  evening.  Of  course,  the  singing  commenced 
early,  as  that  formed  the  principal  object  of  the 
gathering.  The  gentleman  of  the  house  led  Pau 
line  to  the  instrument  just  as  some  new  corners 
entered  the  room,  who,  however,  were  little  ob 
served  at  the  time,  as  all  attention  was  at  once 
given  to  the  performers.  The  lady  of  the  house, 
however,  taking  the  arm  of  a  rather  elderly,  but 
fashionable  looking  man,  drew  him  towards  the 
magical  circle,  saying, 

"  We  have  got  a  prodigy  here,  Colonel,  this  eve 
ning.  You  will  be  delighted  to  hear  Miss  St.  Pierre 
sing.  It  is  well  you  did  not  return  to  the  country 
without  hearing  her.  You  don't  know  what  you 
would  have  lost ;  but  I  forgot  she  is  a  French  lady, 
and  you  don't  like  the  French." 

"Oh,  I  have  no  particular  dislike,"  said  the  per 
son  addressed,  "  only  in  war  you  know." 

A  scarlet  blush  passed  over  his  face,  and  he  bit 
his  lips  with  rather  a  look  of  vexation.  His  atten 
tion,  however,  was  soon  completely  entranced  by 
the  performance.  The  solos  were  sung  by  Pauline, 
several  others  joining  in  the  chorus.  The  Colonel 
could  scarcely  respire.  He  felt  a  longing  desire  to 
see  the  face  of  the  charming  musician.  The  gay 
and  fashionable  were  crowdmg  around,  and  he 
could  only  get  where  he  had  a  glimpse  of  the  bust, 
by  which,  however,  he  discovered  the  form  was 
exquisite,  and  the  hand  and  finely  rounded  arm  he 
thought  superior  to  any  of  Nature's  workmanship  he 
had  ever  seen.  He  was  thinking  in  what  language 
he  should  address  the  beautiful  musician  when  he 
attempted  to  thank  her  for  the  pleasure  her  une 
qualled  performance  had  given  him.  She  was  not, 
however,  permitted  to  rise  immediately,  as  a  duet 
was  now  proposed,  and  a  tall  and  graceful  young 
man,  who  was  hanging  over  her  chair,  was  prepar- 


190  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

ing  to  assist  her.  Once  or  twice  as  she  turned 
partly  round  to  speak  to  him,  the  Colonel  caught  a 
glimpse  of  her  profile,  and  beautiful  as  he  thought 
her,  there  was  a  dim  recollection  of  something  he 
had  seen,  that  gave  him  pain.  In  vain  he  turned 
to  the  past  to  see  what  it  was.  It  was  now  nearly 
three  years  since  he  had  seen  her,  and  as  he  had 
quite  forgotten  her  surname,  having  never  heard  it 
but  once,  that  of  St.  Pierre  did  not  strike  him  as 
familiar. 

At  length,  after  the  performance  of  several  other 
pieces,  supper  was  announced,  and  the  gallant 
young  man  who  assisted  her,  and  whom  the  Colo 
nel  recollected  as  an  acquaintance  from  the  South, 
gave  her  his  hand  to  conduct  her  to  the  table.  Mrs. 
Bell,  the  lady  of  the  house,  at  the  same  time  begged 
"  to  present  Colonel  Winslow  to  Miss  St.  Pierre." 

"  Colonel  Winslow,"  said  Pauline,  and  for  an 
instant  the  color  faded  from  her  cheek  ;  but  it 
quickly  returned,  and  darting  at  him  a  look  that 
spoke  volumes,  with  a  distant  and  studied  curtsey, 
returned  his  profound  salutation,  and  passed  calmly 
on.  Not  so  the  Colonel.  Had  a  ghost  arisen  from 
the  regions  of  the  dead,  he  could  scarce  .have  been 
more  appalled  ;  it  was  in  vain  he  struggled  for 
composure.  Pale  as  marble,  his  knees  smote  one 
another,  and  he  made  an  apology  for  not  staying 
out  to  sup,  feeling  himself  c(  too  unwell  to  be  out 
longer." 

Pauline  was  not  going  to  stay  at  supper,  having 
excused  herself  from  that  on  her  first  arrival,  her 
grandfather  being  quite  indisposed  ;  she  would  not 
have  left  home  at  all  on  this  evening,  but  she  knew 
it  would  be  a  great  disappointment  to  her  young 
friend  and  pupil,  Emma,  and  also  to  Mrs.  Bell,  who 
wished  her  to  take  part  in  the  musical  performances 
of  the  evening  ;  she  therefore  immediately  took 
leave  of  the  company3  and  withdrew.  She  knew 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  191 

the  carriage  of  Mrs.  Bell  would  be  waiting  for  her. 
The  agitation  of  Colonel  •  Winslow  had  not  been 
unobserved  by  the  company,  though  few,  if  any, 
divined  the  cause.  His  hasty  exit  was  not  seen  by 
Pauline,  who  studiedly  averted  her  eyes  from  him. 
She  was  not,  therefore,  aware  of  his  departure  j 
and,  to  her  surprise,  abruptly  encountered  him  in 
the  hall.  He  evidently  sought  to  speak  with  her, 
but  with  a  lofty  inclination  of  the  head  she  repelled 
the  attempt,  and  hastily  passed  him. 

"  Pauline,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  I  wish  much  to 
speak  with  you,"  rushing  forward  and  seizing  her 
hand  as  she  approached  the  carriage.  "  Pauline, 
have  you  forgotten  me  ?  I  wish  to  see  you  a  few 
moments.  You  have  nothing  to  fear,"  observing 
her  tremble  violently. 

"  I  have  not  forgotten  you,  Sir,  nor  do  I  fear 
you,"  said  Pauline  proudly.  Here  the  Colonel 
placed  himself  directly  between  her  and  the  car 
riage-door,  which  a  servant  was  respectfully  hold 
ing. 

"  Where  do  you  reside,  Pauline,  Miss  St.  Pierre, 
I  mean.  I  have  business,"  said  the  Colonel. 

All  this  time,  the  young  gentleman,  Mr.  Moulton, 
from  Carolina,  upon  whose  arm  she  leaned,  stood 
staring  in  mute  astonishment,  not  knowing  what  to 
make  of  it,  until  the  answer  of  Pauline  opened  his 
eyes. 

11  Colonel  Winslow,"  said  Pauline,  with  a  degree 
of  spirit  which,  from  her  sweet  countenance  and 
gentle  manners,  no  one  would  have  supposed  her 
to  possess,  "  we  have  no  more  lands  to  despoil,  no 
houses  you  can  burn,  nor  friends  to  banish.  What 
business,  then,  can  you  have  with  the  plundered 
exiles  of  Nova  Scotia  ?  "  and,  springing  into  the 
carriage,  she  ordered  the  coachman  to  drive  on. 

The  Carolinian  stood  as  though  rooted  to  the 
spot,  as  the  carriage  whirled  round  the  corner,  for 


192  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

the  coachman,  who  thought  he  had  sat  in  waiting 
quite  long  enough,  was  not  slow  to  obey  the  order. 
The  Colonel,  now  turning  to  him,  began  to  explain, 
saying, 

"  1  knew  the  girl  in  Nova  Scotia,  at  the  time  the 
French  were  driven  out,  and  should  think  she 
would  feel  some  gratitude.  I  granted  the  life  of 
her  brother  at  her  request." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  the  southerner,  "  1  was  not 
aware  you  were  concerned  in  that  detestable  busi 
ness." 

"  1  had  the  honor  to  command  in  that  expedi 
tion,"  he  answered,  without  deigning  to  notice  the 
reflection,  "  and  I  granted  to  this  young  virago  her 
brother's  life." 

"  Who  condemned  him  to  death  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Moulton,  abruptly. 

"  Why,  from  the  rank  I  held,  I  was  obliged  to 
do  that,"  answered  the  Colonel.  "  His  father  had 
fled,  and  refused  to  give  himself  up  ;  and  my  or 
ders  from  the  Governor  were" — 

"  Then  you  condemned  the  innocent  son  because 
the  father  had  exercised  a  right  which  God  and 
nature  had  given  him  to  preserve  his  liberty.  1 
wish  you  a  very  good  evening."  Just  touching 
his  hat,  the  haughty  and  disdainful  Carolinian 
walked  into  the  house,  inwardly  cursing  the  cow 
ardice  of  the  man  who  could  consent  to  make  war 
upon  unarmed  men,  women,  and  children.  .  . 

The  blood  of  Colonel  Winslow  boiled  in  his 
bosom,  as  he  found  himself  standing  alone  upon 
the  pavement.  He  would  have  challenged  Mr. 
Moulton,  but  for  various  reasons  that  would  not 
have  answered.  In  the  first  place,  it  would  have 
been  difficult  to  designate  the  offence  ;  next,  it 
would  have  called  up  public  attention  to  certain 
scenes  of  his  life,  that  might  as  well  be  forgotten. 
So,  firmly  resolving  he  would  never  again  recognise 

rmo  r*f    fl-mcr>   hntprl  p-»rilp«    IIP    \valkp.H    nff. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  193 

With  a  bosom  throbbing  with  unutterable  emo 
tion,  Pauline  rushed  from  the  carriage  to  her  own 
apartments,  and  threw  herself  upon  the  neck  of  her 
venerable  grandfather.  There  she  gave  way  to 
the  emotions  that  overwhelmed  her,  and  sobbed  as 
though  her  heart  were  breaking.  All  the  trials  she 
had  endured,  all  the  miseries  of  her  people,  the 
dreadful  scenes  acted  over  in  her  desolated  country, 
and  the  uncertain  fate  of  her  family,  rushed  upon 
her  with  overwhelming  force.  But  we  must  leave 
her  some  little  time,  and  look  after  some  of  the 
other  sufferers. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"  Put  we  our  quarrel  to  the  will  of  heaven, 
Who,  \vhen  he  sees  the  hours  ripe  on  earth, 
Will  rain  hot  vengeance  on  offenders'  heads." 

MADAM  ST.  PIERRE  was  a  woman  of  great  dig 
nity  of  character,  and  most  uncommon  fortitude. 
From  her,  Pauline  doubtless  inherited  much  of 
the  firmness  and  energy  which  distinguished  her 
through  life.  Josephine  had  it  not  ;  she  was  mild, 
gentle,  and  amiable,  but  timid,  retiring,  and  by  no 
means  possessed  of  the  firmness  of  nerve  that  dis 
tinguished  her  sister ;  the  shock  of  their  forcible 
expulsion  from  their  native  home,  had  of  itself 
nearly  overcome  her  ;  and,  in  addition,  the  night 
of  cold  and  exposure  on  the  shore,  by  which  she 
contracted  a  violent  cold,  rendered  her  so  ill  that, 
upon  getting  on  board  the  transport,  she  was  en 
tirely  unable  to  help  herself.  Perhaps  it  was  fortu 
nate  for  her  mother  it  was  so,  as  her  time  and 
thoughts  were  so  completely  occupied  about  this 
her  youngest  and  darling  child,  as  to  leave  little 
17 


194  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

room  for  lamentation.  Josephine,  hovering  be 
tween  life  and  death,  was  an  object  that  absorbed 
every  feeling  of  her  distressed  mother.  Few  per 
sons  ever  experienced  more  affliction  at  one  time; 
torn  from  her  cherished  home,  or  rather,  suddenly- 
driven  out,  she  had  seen  her  house  and  substance 
a  prey  to  devouring  flames,  her  husband  an  exile, 
with  the  sentence  of  death  hanging  over  him.  (for 
a  reward  had  been  offered  for  his  head  before 
Madam  St.  Pierre  left.)  her  four  sons  sent  off,  she 
knew  not  where,  and  her  heroic  and  noble-minded 
daughter  forbidden  to  come  in  the  vessel  with  her, 
unless  she  would  quit  the  side  of  her  infirm  old 
grandfather,  and  leave  him  in  his  blindness  to  be- 
tossed  about  the  world  alone,  compelled  to  take 
passage  for  another  port,  and  sweet  Gabriella,  whom 
she  loved  with  the  affection  of  a  mother,  had,  as 
Madam  St.  Pierre  believed,  been  burned  up  in  her 
house,  and  her  two  innocent  children  butchered  in 
sight  of  their  home. 

"  Oh,  my  brain  !  "  the  poor  lady  would  often 
exclaim  ;  "  if  I  can  only  keep  my  senses."  Then 
when  she  looked  upon  Josephine,  all  would  be  for 
gotten  in  the  anxiety  for  her  apparently  dying  child. 

From  the  crowded  state  of  the  vessel,  the  air  was 
extremely  bad  ;  and  day  after  day,  and  night  after 
night,  did  the  wretched  mother  hang  over  the  couch 
of  her  daughter,  imploring  heaven  to  take  her  with 
her,  if  her  child  could  not  be  spared  ;  the  next 
moment,  perhaps,  she  would  say,  "  But  why  should 
I  ask  her  life  ?  What  has  my  child  to  look  forward 
to  ?  It  is  selfishness  entirely  ;  better  that  the  rag 
ing  fever  or  the  raging  sea  destroy  her  at  once. 
Could  I  bear  to  see  her  suffering,  or  her  delicate 
form  bending  beneath  the  task  of  some  hard  master, 
her  strength  taxed  to  the  utmost  to  earn  a  scanty 
pittance  of  bread  ?  Forbid  it  heaven  !  " 

The  pitching  and  rolling  of  the  vessel  was  dread- 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  195 

ful ;  and  sometimes  it  seemed  as  though  they  were 
all  about  to  be  engulfed  together  :  but  no  symptom 
of  fear  was  discoverable  in  her,  or  indeed  any  of 
that  hapless  company  ;  their  misery  was  too  in 
tense  to  be  disturbed  by  fears  of  death.  The  mor 
tality  in  that,  and  indeed  in  all  the  transports,  was 
great,  a  number  of  aged  persons  and  invalids  having 
died  on  the  passage.  Alas  !  from  the  crowded  state 
of  the  vessels,  but  little  could  be  done  for  their 
comfort ;  and  to  have  been  indisposed  before  sail 
ing,  was  almost  a  death-warrant.  Several  infants 
also  died,  and  were  torn  from  the  arms  of  their  half 
frantic  mothers  and  consigned  to  a  watery  grave. 

In  another  of  the  transports,  which  started  seve 
ral  hours  before  the  one  that  carried  the  females, 
Louis  the  younger  and  his  brothers  were  embarked. 
Of  the  wretched  fate  of  his  family,  his  beloved 
Gabriella  and  her  babes,  Louis  had  only  been  in 
formed  just  before  sailing  ;  and  the  intellects  of  the 
unhappy  young  man,  already  injured  by  his  close 
confinement  and  the  agitation  he  endured  while 
under  sentence  of  death,  it  is  probable  were  still 
more  beclouded  by  the  disastrous  news  which  was 
now  communicated.  For  several  days  he  would 
sit  for  hours  with  his  arms  folded,  looking  down 
with  a  fixed,  immovable  gaze,  without  apparently 
observing  any  thing  around  him ;  his  brothers, 
who  did  not,  however,  comprehend  the  extent  of 
his  danger,  would  try  to  rouse  him,  and  would  have 
rejoiced  to  see  him  weep,  but  no  sigh  or  tear  escap 
ed  him. 

On  the  third  day  of  the  voyage,  some  of  the 
guard  were  very  insolent  to  the  unhappy  prisoners, 
from  some  very  trifling  offence,  calling  them  French 
dogs,  vagabonds,  &c.,  and  Louis  was  observed  to 
turn  upon  them  a  threatening  look,  upon  one  in 
particular,  until  the  soldier  himself  at  length  per 
ceived  it,  when  he  called  to  a  comrade  to  assist  in 


196  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

securing  him,  as  "he  was  afraid  of  his  life."     The 
fellow  ran  to  get  a  pair  of  handcuffs,  while  several 
of  his  friends  and  neighbors  looked  on  with  an 
anxious   eye,    half  resolved   to   attempt   a  rescue. 
His  brothers  were  below,  a  part  only  of  the  prison 
ers  being  permitted  to  be  on  the  deck  at  a  time. 
The  two  soldiers  advanced  to  secure  their  victim, 
and  Louis,  who  had  sank  back  apparently  into  his 
former  lethargy,  sat   immovable,  until  they  were 
within  about  four  feet   of  him,  when,   springing 
between  the  two,  he  threw  an  arm  round  each,  and 
with  the  strength  of  distraction  leaped  into  the  sea, 
carrying  them  down  with  him  ;  twice  they  rose, 
but  as  the  sea  was  very  heavy,  and  the  vessel  going 
quite  fast,  all  attempts  to  save  them  were  vain,  and 
the  strong,  nervous  gripe  of   the   poor  distracted 
maniac,  which  never  relaxed,  carried  them  down 
again.     It  was  evident  that  Louis  had  been  wound 
ed  by  the  men  in  their  attempts  to  free  themselves, 
as  the  water  around  them'  was  dyed  with  1 
and  in  the  agony  of  death  he  probably  held  them 
closer  ;   one   universal  cry  resounded  through  the 
vessel,   which  called  the  guard  and  officers  from 
below.     It  is  worthy  of  remark,   that   while  this 
scene   was  acting,   the   English   looking   on  with 
horror,  the  generous  French  exerted  themselves  to 
the  utmost  to  save  the  struggling  victims.     They 
threw  over  plank  after  plank,  shouting  for  them  to 
seize  it,  and,  hastily  uncoiling  a  rope,  nearly  suc 
ceeded  in  reaching  them  with  the  end  of  it  ;  and 
when   they  sank  for  the  last  time,  they  evinced 
their  humane  feelings  by  a  general  expression  of 
pity. 

Very  great  confusion  now  ensued  on  board  the 
vessel,  the  officers  of  the  guard  protesting  they 
would  avenge  the  death  of  the  two  men,  and  chain 
the  whole  below  for  the  remainder  of  the  voyage. 
With  bitter  curses,  the  prisoners  were  then  ordered 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  197 

down.  But  the  captain,  who  was  a  plain,  blunt 
fellow,  it  was  evident  was  not  well  pleased ;  he 
was  one  of  those  who  had  been  engaged  to  trans 
port  the  exiles,  or  rather  to  assist  in  carrying  a 
freight  of  them  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  belonged 
when  at  home,  which  was  very  seldom,  as  he  was 
generally  away  on  coasting  business.  Though 
these  were  in  the  days  of  "  kingly  despotism,"  this 
man  seemed  to  possess  something  of  the  spirit  of 
independence.  Placing  his  arms  a-kimbo,  he  walk 
ed  straight  up  to  the  officers  who  were  assembled 
round  the  caboose,  and  proposing  violent  measures. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is, 
1  don't  want  to  see  these  poor  people  treated  any 
worse  than  they  have  been  already,  God  knows 
that  is  bad  enough  ;  as  to  the  jumping  over  with 
them  rascally  guards,  I  am  a  witness  they  deserved 
it,  though  I  did  all  I  could,  as  you  all  know,  to 
save  their  lives.  The  young  man  who  did  it,  and 
who  died  with  them,  was  raving  crazy,  driven  mad 
by  the  burning  up  of  his  wife  and  the  murder  of 
his  infant  children  :  and,  gentlemen,  any  violence 
shown  to  this  unoffending  people,  to  avenge  the 
death  of  those  fellows,  would  be  wrong,  and  if  I 
have  any  authority  in  this  vessel,  I  forbid  it.'' 

"  Silence  !  "  said  a  pert  lieutenant.  "  Why,  Sir, 
don't  you  know  we  could  take  the  command  of 
your  craft  from  you,  and  chain  you  with  the  rest?" 

"  No,"  replied  the  sturdy  seaman,  "  as  I  hope  to 
see  my  Maker,  I  don't  know  any  such  thing.  It 
would  be  mutiny,  and  punishable  with  death  in 
whoever  attempted  it.  I  know  what  is  due  to  the 
king's  officers  as  well  as  any  one,  and  I  know  also 
what  is  due  to  a  captain  on  board  his  own  ship. 
Why,  do  you  threaten  any  such  thing,  Sir  ? " 

"  No,  certainly  not,"  returned  the  lieutenant, 
quite  cooled  down.  "  I  merely  said  it  could  be 
done.  But,  if  you  will  engage  for  their  good  be- 
17* 


198  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

haviour,   we   will   not   chain    the  poor   wretches7, 
whose  fate,  as  you  observe,  is  rather  a  hard  one." 

"  I  make  no  pledges,"  said  the  captain  bluntly, 
"  but  I  have  no  fears  but  they  will  deport  them 
selves  peaceably,  as  they  have  done,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  this  poor  crazy  one ;  and  if  I  should  see 
them  abused  in  my  ship,  I  would  see  them  righted, 
if  I  went  to  England  to  do  it." 

"  Well,  what  had  we  better  do,  my  brother  offi 
cers  ?"  asked  the  lieutenant.  "  Shall  we  trust 
them  a  little  longer,  or  had  we  better  confine  them 
entirely  below  ? " 

"  That,"  said  the  captain,  interrupting,  "  would 
be  worse  than  a  slave-ship,  that  hell  upon  earth  ; 
for  even  there,  they  are  brought  on  deck  for  air." 

The  brother  officers  now  interposed,  and  recom 
mended  moderate  measures,  and  finally  it  was 
agreed  to  admonish  the  Neutrals  respecting  their 
peaceable  deportment,  and  give  them  as  much  lib 
erty  as  formerly.  Upon  this,  the  captain  walked 
off;  but,  singularly  enough,  from  this  hour  he' was 
observed  to  attach  himself  particularly  to  the  three' 
lads  whose  brother  had  dealt  such  signal  vengeance 
on  the  guard.  Whether  it  was  because  he  came 
so  near  getting  himself  in  a  scrape  on  their  be 
half,  for  he  feared  for  the  severity  towards  them 
most,  in  the  retaliatory  measures,  or  -from  what 
ever  cause,  he  sought  out  the  poor  afflicted  lads, 
and  tried,  in  his  rough  way,  to  comfort  them. 

"  Never  mind,  my  brave  fellows,"  he  would  say, 
"  what  signifies,  we  have  all  got  to  go  ;  and  if 
your. brother  has  gone  to  Davy's  locker  before  ye, 
why,  you  and  I  have  got  to  follow  in  some  sort, 
that's  all.  May  be  you  have  parents  in  some  of 
the  other  vessels  ;  and  if  so,  why,  when  we  come 
to  port,  I'll  try  to  look  them  up,  and  if  they  are  in 
distress,  as  doubtless  they  are,  why,  Sam  Cum- 
rnj,ngs  will  give  you  a  helping  'hand,  So,  come 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  199 

cheer  up.  When  things  come  to  the  worst,  they 
mend." 

The  poor  lads,  to  whom  the  voice  of  kindness 
from  any  of  the  English  (for  so  they  called  the 
inhabitants  of  the  provinces)  was  new,  at  this  re 
doubled  their  tears.  Nevertheless,  the  words,  or 
what  they  could  understand  of  them,  of  the  wor 
thy  captain,  did  in  some  measure  comfort  ihem  j 
and  when,  after  a  dreary  passage  of  nearly  three 
weeks,  tossed  about  by  contrary  winds  and  other 
hindrances,  they  finally  made  the  port  .of  Philadel 
phia,  the  captain  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  sat 
himself  to  make  inquiries  after  the  mother  and 
sisters  of  the  three  lads.  The  transport  that  con 
veyed  them  had  arrived  first,  and  the  captain  found 
they  were  the  tenants  of  an  almshouse.  There,  in 
a  room  containing  about  fifty  bunks,  arranged  on 
either  side,  and  only  a  few  feet  apart,  lay  the 
youthful  and  beautiful  Josephine,  a  prey  to  wasting 
disease,  and  beside  her  sat  Madam  St.  Pierre,  the 
image  of  despair.  Her  eyes  were  so  intently  fixed 
upon  the  pale  face  of  her  darling,  that  she  perceived 
not  the  approach  of  the  brothers,  until  a  faint  shriek 
from  the  poor  invalid  announced  their  entrance. 
We  cannot  paint  the  interview,  which  came  very 
near  being  fatal  to  Josephine,  and  caused  the  cap 
tain  to  choke  sadly,  and  wipe  his  eyes  more  than 
once.  The  fate  of  Louis  was  obliged  to  be  told, 
but  it  did  not  move  his  mother  as  they  feared  it 
would.  She  had  harbored  a  presentiment  of  some 
thing  of  this  kind,  and  never  expected  to  see  him 
alive  ;  and  in  the  presence  of  wives  deprived  of 
both  husbands  and  children,  could  she  repine  ?  No  ; 
she  felt  it  was  now  her  duty  to  rejoice,  and,  devout 
ly  sinking  on  her  knees,  she  returned  thanks  to 
that  great  and  good  Being  who  had  spared  her  so 
many  blessings. 

And  now  came  the  fulfillment  of  the  good  cap- 


200  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

tain's  professions.  He  had  promised  the  lads,  if 
they  would  work,  to  procure  employment  for  them 
as  soon  as  they  should  arrive  ;  and  they,  contrary 
to  the  advice  of  the  other  Neutrals,  had  agreed  to 
labor.  A  habitation  was  to  be  procured  for  them  ; 
but,  before  this  could  be  done,  he  deemed  it  expe 
dient  to  remove  Josephine  to  his  own  house,  which, 
being  just  out  of  the  city,  he  trusted  the  pure  air 
would  aid  in  her  recovery.  Any  thing  for  the  re 
cto  very  of  her  darling,  Madam  St.  Pierre  was  ready 
to  assent  to,  though  it  grieved  her  to  be  parted  from 
her  boys,  only  for  a  few  days. 

Mrs.  Cummings  very  politely  welcomed  her  hus 
band's  guests,  in  her  joy  to  see  him.  "  Why,  I 
was  so  afraid,  my  dear,"  she  said,  after  the  first 
salutations  were  over,  "  that  you  would  be  murdered 
by  these  horrid  French,  you  can't  think."  The 
face  of  the  captain  reddened  even  to  his  temples, 
while  he  answered, 

11 1  have  been  in  no  danger,  unless  it  was  from 
the  King's  officers.  But  if  you  ever  catch  me  in 
such  another  scrape,  may  I  be  hanged.  Why, 
Mary,  they  are  the  most  innocentest  people  under 
heaven ;  but  have  a  bed  instantly  prepared  for  this 
poor  girl." 

Mrs.  Cummings  looked  at  her  and  saw  there  was 
no  time  to  be  lost,  and  leading  the  way  to  the  only 
spare  chamber  she  possessed,  and  calling  a  girl  to 
assist  them,  she  politely  left  them  to  prepare  some 
thing  for  their  comfort.  The  contrast  was  great  to 
the  poor  invalid,  from  the  crowded  workhouse  to  a 
peaceful  and  comfortable  chamber,  with  all  that 
kindness  and  the  most  considerate  attention  could 
devise  for  her  comfort  j  and  then  the  pure  air  of 
the  Schuylkill,  and  the  comfort  of  seeing  her  broth 
ers  often,  as  the  captain  always  brought  out  one  of 
them  at  night.  Gradually  the  fever  left  her,  and 
returning  health  once  more  revisited  her  cheek.  In. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH,  201 

a  few  weeks  the  brothers  announced  the  gratifying 
intelligence  that  they  had  steady  employment,  and 
had  procured  a  habitation,  humble,  but  suited  to 
their  wants.  Into  this  they  removed  the  few  things 
they  had  brought,  and  taking  an  affectionate  leave 
of  their  hostess,  whose  friendship  did  not  leave 
them  here,  they  returned  to  the  city,  and  in  the 
society  of  the  brothers,  who  uniformly  spent  their 
evenings  with  them,  laboring  out  days,  they  were 
obliged  to  confess,  thaf  if  they  only  had  the  other 
members  of  their  family  with  them,  they  would  be 
more  than  comfortable.  Of  her  husband,  Madam, 
thought  with  grief  more  than  anxiety,  and  had  little 
doubt  he  would  escape  to  Canada ;  but  she  feared 
their  separation  would  be  long,  as  he  would  not 
seek  her.  Pauline  she  thought  of  with  all  a  moth 
er's  anxiety,  and  had  immediately  interested  friends 
to  write  and  make  inquiries.  One  consoling  reflec 
tion  she  had  ;  Pauline  had  refused  to  desert  her 
poor  blind  grandfather,  and  she  trusted  that  with  so 
holy  a  motive,  God  would  not  desert  her  ;  her 
daughter,  too,  spoke  English  fluently,  and  was 
capable  of  making  herself  understood  much  better 
than  the  other  members  of  the  family;  she  was, 
besides,  possessed  of  much  firmness,  energy  of  char 
acter,  and  perseverance,  and  if  she  was  blessed  with 
health,  she  firmly  believed  would  never  consent  to 
remain  the  inmate  of  an  almshouse.  With  these 
considerations  they  used  to  cheer  themselves  and 
each  other,  resolving  to  continue  their  inquiries,  and 
in  the  mean  time  compose  themselves,  waiting 
quietly  His  time,  who,  they  firmly  believed,  would 
in  his  own  good  providence  bring  every  thing  about 
which  was  really  for  their  good.  Happy  they  who 
by  an  effort  of  philosophy  or  religion,  can  overcome 
that  corroding  anxiety  which  serves  no  good  or 
useful  purpose,  and,  if  indulged,  will  only  unfit 
us  for  the  enjoyment  of  our  wishes  if  granted,  and 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

to  add  to  our  abundant  misery  if  not,  and  is  sinful, 
because  it  implies  a  distrust  of  Providence.  "  As 
ye  believe  so  shall  it  be  to  you,"  or,  "  as  your  faith 
is,"  &c..  is  as  often  fulfilled  as  any  promise  held  out 
to  the  sons  of  men. 

Madam  St.  Pierre  had  been  settled  some  months 
in  her  new  habitation,  when  a  deputation  from  the 
banished  Acadians  south  of  Pennsylvania  arrived  in 
the  city  to  procure  the  signatures  of  their  country 
men  in  Philadelphia  to  a  petition  to  the  King  of 
Great  Britain,  drawn  up  by  themselves,  the  object 
of  which  -was  to  procure  some  relief  or  mitigation 
of  the  cruel  sentence  which  condemned  them  to  a 
rigorous  banishment  from  their  native  land,  and  to 
drag  out  an  existence  in  a  climate  which  they  found 
was  thinning  their  numbers  rapidly.  The  mortali 
ty  among  them  in  Virginia  and  Georgia,  where 
some  of  them  had  been  carried,  was  dreadful,  as 
the  greater  part  died  from  the  effect  of  the  climate 
the  first  season.  In  Pennsylvania  it  was  not  much 
better,  for  as  the  greater  part  were  confined  to  the 
city  of  Philadelphia,  one  of  the  hottest  cities  in 
summer  on  the  whole  continent  of  North  America, 
if  we  except  Charleston  and  Savannah.  They  be 
gan  to  droop  immediately  as  soon  as  the  spring 
opened,  and  by  midsummer  the  mortality  had  be 
come  very  alarming.  The  greater  part  of  these 
poor  people  could  not  be  brought  to  believe  that 
the  King  of  England,  whose  peaceable  subjects 
they  had  been  for  so  many  years,  could  have  sanc 
tioned  the  heartless  proceedings  that  had  driven 
them  into  exile,  or  if  he  had  done  so,  they  felt  that 
he  must  have  been  imposed  upon  by  those  whose 
interest  it  was  to  ruin  them.  With  a  view,  there 
fore,  to  open  his  eyes  in  case  he  was  deceived,  or 
perhaps  to  move  his  compassion  at  the  representa 
tion  of  their  forlorn  condition,  this  document  was 
prepared.  It  is  a  most  able  and  pathetic  appeal, 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  203 

and  proves  incontestably,  that  however  quiet  and 
unoffending  that  people  were  from  principle,  it  was 
not  from  want  of  intellect  or  intelligence.  We 
regret  that  its  length  must  prevent  its  insertion 
entire  in  this  place.  It  covers  twelve  octavo  pages 
in  Halliburton's  History  of  Nova  Scotia,  and  may 
be  found  in  the  first  -volume  of  that  work,  com 
mencing  at  page  183.  It  was  dated  at  Philadel 
phia,  where  the  delegates  now  were,  and  a  great 
proportion  of  the  unhappy  exiles  had  now  congre 
gated,  to  make  the  last  effort  to  obtain  redress  and 
relief. 

The  petition,  in  the  first  place,  was  addressed 
u  to  his  most  excellent  Majesty  the  King  of  Great 
Britain  ;  "  and  purported  to  be  "  the  humble  peti 
tion  of  his  subjects,  the  late  French  inhabitants  of 
Nova  Scotia."  The  substance,  of  it  was  as  follows: 

"  That  it  was  not  in  their  power  to  trace  back  • 
the  conditions  upon  which  their  ancestors  first  set 
tled  in  Nova  Scotia,  under  the  protection  of  the 
British  government,  as  a  great  part  of  their  elders 
who  were  acquainted  with  the  transactions,  were 
dead  ;  but  the  greatest  reason  was,  that  all  their 
records,  contracts,  and  other  papers,  were  forcibly 
seized  long  before  ;  but  they  had  always  understood 
the  agreement  made  between  their  forefathers  and 
the  English  commanders  in  Nova  Scotia  in  1713, 
to  be  a  stipulation  '  that  they  should  be  permitted 
to  remain  in  peaceable  possession  of  their  lands, 
and  the  free  exercise  of  their  religion,  with  an  ex 
emption  from  bearing  arms,  upon  their  coming 
under  an  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  government  of 
Great  Britain.' 

"  That  it  was  in  the  recollection  of  many  of 
them,  that  in  1730,  Governor  Philips,  the  then  Gov 
ernor  of  Nova  Scotia,  in  the  King's  name  did  con 
firm  unto  them  these  privileges,  at  the  same  time 
administering  the  oath  of  allegiance,  which  ran 


204  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

thus  :  *  We  sincerely  promise  and  swear,  by  the 
faith  of  a  Christian,  that  we  will  be  entirely  faith 
ful  and  submit  ourselves  to  his  Majesty  King 
George,  whom  we  acknowledge  as  sovereign  lord 
of  New  Scotland  or  Acadia.  So  God  help  us.' ' 

The  said  Philips  then  promised  them  in  the 
King's  name,  "  they  should  be  excused  from  bear 
ing  arms  either  against  the  French  or  Indians." 
That,  under  the  sanction  of  this  solemn  engage 
ment,  they  continued  to  hold  their  lands  and  make 
further  purchases,  paying  their  quit-rents  annually, 
and  that  they  felt  confident  their  conduct  was  such 
as  to  recommend  them  to  the  King,  and  also  the 
Governor  of  New  England,  who,  seventeen  years 
after,  issued  a  printed  declaration  to  that  effect, 
some  of  the  originals  of  which  they  had  preserved 
from  the  general  plunder.  This  declaration  of  Wil 
liam  Shirley,  Governor  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  was 
directed  "  To  the  French  inhabitants  of  Nova  Sco 
tia,"  and  was  to  this  effect  : 

That  he,  the  Governor,  "  had  been  informed  a 
report  had  been  circulated  among  the  Neutral  French, 
that  there  was  an  intention  to  remove  them  from 
their  settlements  in  Nova  Scotia  ;  that  he  had  made 
a  representation  of  their  circumstances  to  the  King, 
and,  in  obedience  to  his  command  and  order,  he 
now  declared  in  his  Majesty's  name,  that  there  was 
not  the  least  foundation  for  such  fears  ;  that  he  had 
no  intention  of  removing  them  ;  but,  on  the  con 
trary,  it  was  his  Majesty's  determination  to  protect 
them  all  in  the  peaceable  and  quiet  possession  of 
their  rights  and  privileges,  who  should  continue  in 
their  duty  and  allegiance  to  him,  and  deport  them 
selves  as  his  subjects.  Dated  at  Boston,  October 
21,  1747."  (This  was  just  eight  years  before  their 
removal.)  Signed  by  William  Shirley,  Governor 
of  his  Majesty's  Province  of  Massachusetts  Bay. 

"  That  this  declaration  was  followed  by  a  letter 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  205 

to  their  deputies,  from  Mr.  Mascarine,  Governor  of 
Nova  Scotia,  reiterating  the  promises  and  assuran 
ces  made  by  Governor  Shirley  ;  that  they  were 
again  required  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance,  which 
they  did  as  formerly,  without  any  mention  of  bear 
ing  arms  ;  and  that  they  could  aver  with  truth, 
they  were  not  sensible  of  any  alteration  in  their 
disposition  and  conduct  since  that  time ;  that  they 
had  always  continued  to  behave  themselves  peace 
ably  and  as  good  citizens,  notwithstanding  which 
they  had  found  themselves  surrounded  with  diffi 
culties  unknown  before. 

'-'  That  the  determination  of  the  British  to  fortify 
the  town  of  Halifax,  had  caused  the  French  in 
Canada  to  make  incursions  in  order  to  annoy  that 
settlement,  whereby  they  were  exposed  to  great 
straits  and  hardships  ;  yet,  from  the  obligation  of 
their  oath  they  never  doubted  it  was  their  duty  to 
remain  quiet,  and  did  so,"  &c. 

The  memorial  went  on  to  say  :  "  That  had  they 
known  it  was  judged  not  consistent  with  the  safety 
of  the  province  for  them  to  inhabit  it,  they  would 
have  acquiesced  willingly  in  any  reasonable  propo 
sal  to  leave  it,  consistent  with  the  safety  of  their 
aged  and  little  ones.  That,  at  one  time,  Governor 
Cornwallis  insisted  they  should  take  the  oath  of 
allegiance  without  the  exemption  of  bearing  arms, 
which  they  positively  refused,  and  asked  leave,  if 
their  residence  there  upon  the  former  terms  was 
not  acceptable,  for  permission  to  evacuate  the  coun 
try,  and  settle  upon  the  island  of  St.  Johns,  then  a 
French  settlement,  which  he  refused,  until  he 
should  consult  the  King,  when  he  would  give  an 
answer  ;  but  no  answer  ever  came  to  them,  or  pro 
posal  of  any  kind. 

"  That  notwithstanding  the  difficulties  they  la 
bored  under,  they  could  confidently  appeal  to  the 
several  Governors  of  Halifax  and  Annapolis  Royal 
18 


206  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

for  testimonies  of  their  conduct  for  their  willing 
ness  to  obey  orders,  furnish  provisions  and  materi 
als,  making  roads,  building  forts,"  &c. 

u  That  although  they  would  not  fight,  they  had 
from  time  to  time  given  warning  to  the  English 
whenever  apprized  they  were  in  danger,  and  had 
their  advice  been  attended  to,  especially  when  Ma 
jor  Noble,  his  brother,  and  numbers  of  their  men 
were  cut  off,  many  lives  would  have  been  saved  ; 
and  after  that  they  had  been  most  unjustly  accused 
by  the  English  of  aiding  in  the  massacre."  They 
then  ask  "  that  they  may  not  be  permitted  to  suffer 
from  suspicions  and  false  accusations,  but  that  there 
may  be  a  judicial  investigation."  That  "it  could 
not  be  supposed  but  there  would  be  occasional  de 
fection  in  their  ranks,  but  that  the  number  had 
been  very  small,  and  they  known  and  punished." 
That  "  in  the  incursions  of  the  French  into  the 
country,  they  had  sometimes  seized  and  impressed 
some  of  their  young  men  into  their  service,  a  cir 
cumstance  bitterly  lamented  by  them  at  the  time, 
but  which  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  prevent. 

"That  there  were  papers  in  their  possession  which 
would  have  proved  their  innocence  ;  but  their  rulers 
with  an  armed  force  came  upon  them  unawares, 
and  seized  them  all,  and  they  had  never  been  able 
to  regain  any  of  them." 

The  memorial  here  proceeds  to  show  the  way 
"  in  which  they  were  treacherously  made  prison 
ers,  and  sent  away  without  any  judicial  proofs,  or 
any  accuser  appearing  against  them."  Here  follows 
a  particular  account  of  the  hardships  of  their  pas 
sage,  and  the  great  number,  especially  of  the  aged, 
that  died  in  consequence.  "  That  they  had  been 
accused  by  the  English  of  not  feeling  bound  by 
their  oath,  an  accusation  they  considered  amply  re 
futed  by  the  fact  of  their  suffering  so  much  rather 
than  take  an  oath  which  they  could  not  in  con 
science  comply  with." 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  207 

In  speaking  of  their  recent  sufferings,  they  men 
tion  the  case  of  one  "  Renne  Leblanc,  a  notary  pub 
lic,  who  was  seized,  confined,  and  brought  away 
with  the  other  sufferers.  His  family  consisted  of 
himself  and  wife,  twenty  children,  and  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  grandchildren  ;  they  were  all  scat 
tered  in  different  provinces,  so  that  he  was  put  on 
shore  at  New  York,  with  only  his  wife  and  two 
children  in  that  province,  in  an  infirm  state  of 
health.  He  joined  three  more  of  his  children  at 
Philadelphia,  and  then  died,  unnoticed  and  unre 
lieved,  though  he  had  spent  many  years  of  labor 
and  deep  suffering  in  the  service  of  the  English 
government."  (This  gentleman  had  been  an  inde 
fatigable  laborer  in  behalf  of  the  government,  aid 
ing  to  bring  every  thing  in  the  province  under 
peaceable  subjection  to  the  English,  which  he 
judged  best  for  the  people.  In  one  of  his  journeys 
for  that  object,  he  had  been  seized  by  the  Indians, 
from  whom  he  endured  a  captivity  of  three  years. 
No  kindness  whatever  was  extended  to  him  more 
than  others.)  The  memorial  concludes  with  a  de 
scription  of  the  miseries  consequent  upon  their  ban 
ishment.  "  Being  reduced  for  a  livelihood  to  toil 
and  hard  labor  in  a  southern  clime,  where  most  of 
them  had  been  prevented  from  obtaining  a  suffi 
ciency  by  sickness,  more  than  one  half  of  their 
number  had  died  since  their  banishment,"  and  all 
"  their  distresses  were  aggravated  by  the  threat  of 
having  their  children  forced  from  them,  and  bound 
out  to  strangers." 

In  this  wretched  condition,  aggravated  by  the 
contrast  of  the  state  of  ease  and  affluence  from 
which  they  had  been  driven,  "  they,  beseech  his 
Majesty  to  grant  them  some  relief,  after  having  the 
justice  of  their  complaints  truly  and  impartially 
inquired  into." 


208  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  Ye  gods !  look  down, 

And  from  your  secret  vials  pour  your  graces 
Upon  my  daughter's  head.     Tell  me,  mine  own, 
Where  hast.thou  been  preserved  ?  how  lived  ?  " 

WE  have  given,  in  the  preceding  chapter,  the 
condensed  substance  of  the  eloquent  and  pathetic 
appeal  of  the  Neutral  French  to  the  English  mon 
arch,  George  the  Second,  a  document  much  resem 
bling,  in  tone  and  language,  the  many  appeals  of 
the  American  family  just  previous  to  the  Revolu 
tion,  although  composed  twenty  years  before  that 
period.  It  was,  of  course,  submitted  to  all  the 
heads  of  families  for  their  signatures,  and  Madam 
St.  Pierre,  as  one  of  the  most  highly  respected,  was 
one  of  the  first  waited  on  and  requested  to  sign. 

"  I  will  do  it,"  said  Madam,  advancing  to  the 
table  to  place  her  signature,  "I  will  give  my  :*Jd 
to  this  last  experiment  upon  royal  clemency  j  but, 
my  dear  friends  and  countrymen,  I  have  no  faith  it 
will  avail  any  thing.  Think  you  that  the  vulture 
will  give  up  its  prey,  or  the  famished  wolf  after  he 
has  tasted  of  blood?  that  the  tiger  or  hyena  will 
take  oif  their  claws  at  the  cries  of  the  victim,  and 
that,  too,  while  their  prey  is  prostrate  and  grovel 
ling  in  the  dust  ?  " 

But,  however  faithless  Madam  St.  Pierre  might 
be,  there  were  those  who  were  sanguine  about  it, 
and  whose  disappointment,  after  many  a  weary 
month  had  elapsed,  at  finding  the  petition  unan 
swered  and  unnoticed,  was  proportionate  to  their, 
we  had  almost  said,  silly  expectations. 

During  this  period  but  little  of  moment  occurred 
in  the  life  of  Madam  and  her  daughter,  whose 
health,  however,  continued  to  improve.  The  sons 
were  industrious  and  frugal,  and  made  frequent 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH'.  209 

calls  on  their  country-people,  striving  to  cheer  and 
encourage  them,  and  laboring  to  convince  them 
there  was  something  yet  to  do.  Their  efforts  were 
seconded  and  rendered  effectual  by  a  new  proposi 
tion  made  by  some  of  their  most  influential  people, 
which  was  to  wait  until  all  possible  hope  of  favor 
able  news  from  England  was  over,  and  then  com 
mence  a  pilgrimage  to  their  desolated  home  in  the 
East.  Such  a  resolution,  that  certainly  savored  of 
the  most  complete  despair,  if  not  of  aberration  of 
mind,  was  at  once  adopted.  Death  from  the  cli 
mate  where  they  were,  appeared  inevitable,  sooner 
or  later,  and  they  began  to  indulge  the  hope  that 
France  might  again  claim  Nova  Scotia,  and  her 
government  be  once  more  established  there.  How  it 
chanced  that  this  hallucination  overtook  them  again 
is  unexplained,  but  it  is  a  matter  of  historical  record 
that  such  was  the  fact,  and  that  from  the  time  they 
again  conceived  this  idea,  incessant  preparation  was 
going  on  for  a  pilgrimage  eastward,  and  every 
nerve  was  strained  to  prepare  themselves  for  the 
undertaking. 

It  appears  to  the  author  (and  it  is  only  a  con 
jecture,  as  there  are  no  means  of  ascertaining  now) 
that  the  Neutrals,  after  weighing  the  facts  of  their 
sudden  banishment  from  Nova  Scotia,  after  so  many 
years'  residence  under  the  British  government,  must, 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  that  country  was 
menaced  by  a  powerful  invasion  of  the  French,  and 
they  sent  out  of  the  way  to  prevent  all  possibility 
of  their  giving  aid  or  strengthening  the  enemy ;  and 
that,  under  such  an  impression,  they  conceived  it 
possible  they  might,  upon  reaching  it,  actually  find 
it  in  possession  of  the  French.  There  were  some 
who  opposed  the  undertaking,  and  concluded  to 
stay  and  remain  where  they  were.  Madam  St. 
Pierre  and  her  daughter  would  have  been  of  that 
number,  pressed  as  they  were  by  the  kind  persua- 
18* 


210  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

sions  of  Captain  Cummings  and  his  equally  kind 
wife ;  but  a  secret  hope  of  meeting  with  her  dear 
daughter,  whom,  as  yet,  she  could  hear  no  tidings 
of,  induced  her  consent  to  share  the  enterprise.  • 

The  voyage  to  England  and  back  again  was;  in 
those  days,  somewhat  of  an  undertaking,  and  it 
was  many  months  before  the  messengers  charged 
with  the  undertaking,  returned  to  Philadelphia. 
The  account  they  gave  of  its  contemptuous  recep 
tion  and  subsequent  silence,  was  entirely  discour 
aging,  and  determined  them  now  to  expedite  their 
removal. 

We  must  stop  here  to  record  an  event  of  much 
importance  in  the  domestic  history  of  the  family 
whose  lives  we  are  recording ;  and  we  warn  all 
readers  of  romances  that  they  will  be  very  much 
shocked  at  such  an  unnovel-like  incident,  so  much 
more  like  the  every  day  occurrence  of  real  life  than 
than  the  high  wrought  adventures  conceived  in  the 
imagination  of  the  novelist. 

Among  the  number  of  Neutrals  whom  the  plan 
of  the  pilgrimage  brought  on  to  Philadelphia,  was 
Ferdinand,  the  former  lover  of  Pauline  ;  and  despite 
of  all  that  is  said  of  first  love  and  everlasting  con 
stancy,  the  young  man  no  sooner  saw  Josephine 
than  he  conceived  a  violent  passion  for  her,  which 
she,  faithless  sister,  appeared  to  return  with  equal 
ardor.  Whether  it  was  because  she  was  now  about 
the  age  of  her  sister  when  he  parted  from  her,  or 
whether  he  feared  never  to  find  the  other,  and  be 
lieved  in  the  old  adage,  "  that  a  bird  in  the  hand  is 
worth  two  in  the  bush,"  we  cannot  tell ;  but  there 
was  a  total  transfer  of  the  affections  of  the  faithless 
swain.  Josephine  was  pretty,  even  beautiful  •  but 
her  beauty  was  of  a  different  character  from  that  of 
the  noble  Pauline.  She  was  one  of  those  timid, 
helpless,  languid,  inert  sort  of  women,  particularly 
admired  at  the  present  day,  when  indolence  is  mod- 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  211 

esty,  and  helplessness  retiring  delicacy ;  one  of 
those  beings  for  whom  Providence  has  exerted  a 
special  care  to  provide  something  to  lean  on,  well 
knowing  their  utter  incapacity  to  stand  without 
support  of  some  kind. 

The  delicate  feelings  of  Madarn  St.  Pierre  were 
somewhat  shocked  at  the  proposition  of  an  imme 
diate  marriage  between  the  lover  of  her  eldest 
daughter  with  the  youngest  one,  but  she  consider 
ed  that  was  a  subject  not  to  be  named  ;  and  the 
uncertainty  respecting  the  fate  of  that  beloved 
'child,  who,  if  found,  might  perchance  be  as  much 
changed  as  her  lover,  decided  her  not  to  frown 
upon  it,  although  she  did  ask?  with  a  deep  drawn 
sigh,  "  Is  this  a  time  to  marry,  or  be  given  in  mar 
riage?"  Yet  she  assented,  advising,  however,  "to" 
wait  the  termination  of  their  journey."  This  ad 
vice  was  disregarded,  and  the  lovers  were  united 
while  preparations  were  going  on.  After  a  most 
laborious  preparation,  the  requisite  number  of  coast 
ing  vessels  were  procured,  and  with  a  large  propor 
tion  of  the  survivors  of  their  exiled  countrymen, 
they  commenced  their  tedious  voyage. 

Madam  St.  Pierre  was  truly  loth  to  leave  her 
comfortable  quarters  in  Philadelphia,  and  was  only 
supported  in  such  an  undertaking  by  the  presence 
of  two  of  her  children,  and  the  hope  of  meeting 
with  the  dear  lost  one.  Two  of  her  sons  chose  to 
remain  under  the  protection  of  Captain  Cummings, 
who  promised,  "  should  they  be  so  happy  as  to 
effect  a  settlement  further  north,  that  he  would, 
upon  receiving  intelligence,  bring  the  two  lads  him 
self."  The  coasters  were  to  touch  at  New  York 
and  Boston  on  the  voyage,  and  remain  long  enough 
at  those  places  to  take  away  all  of  their  country 
men  who  wished  to  join  them ;  and  Madam  St. 
Pierre  was  obliged  to  confess  on  the  voyage,  that 
the  marriage  of  Josephine  had  relived  her  of  much 


212  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

care,  as  the  attendance  formerly  demanded  of  her 
now  devolved  on  the  husband. 

Arrived  at  New  York,  every  inquiry  was  made 
for  Pauline,  and  they  became  convinced  that  she 
was  certainly  not  in  that  region,  and  it  was  not 
until  after  their  departure  from  port,  that  some  who 
had  joined  them  in  that  region  chanced  to  recollect 
that,  more  than  a  year  before,  inquiries  were  made 
there  for  Madam  St.  Pierre  and  her  daughter,  by 
some  persons  from  Boston,  and  their  impression  was, 
it  was  in  behalf  of  a  daughter  at  the  latter  place  ; 
but  whether  she  was  yet  there,  they  could  not  in 
form  her.  *  Indeed,  so  great  was  their  own  afflic 
tions,  and  so  many  inquiries  were  made  from  differ 
ent  members  of  families  separated  from  each  other, 
that  their  recollection  of  circumstances  was  rather 
imperfect.  Nor  was  this  strange.  Besides,  the 
stupefaction  of  despair  is  one  of  the  most  benumbing 
sensations  ever  experienced,  and  it  was  the  fate  of 
these  unfortunate  people  to  be  a  prey  to  it. 

But  hope  in  the  bosom  of  Madam  St.  Pierre  was 
sanguine,  as,  after  a  long  arid  disagreeable  voyage, 
the  crazy  old  vessel  she  was  in,  neared  the  harbor 
of  Boston.  The  whole  were  ordered  to  stop  within 
a  given  distance,  and  not  presume  to  land  the  peo 
ple  until  an  order  from  the  municipality,  which 
could  not  be  obtained  before  the  next  day.  It  was 
evening  when  they  arrived,  and  at  the  intercession 
of  a  boatman,  who  came  along  side  and  heard  the 
inquiries  of  Ferdinand,  who  spoke  very  good  Eng 
lish,  our  party  were  permitted  to  come  up  with  him. 
The  man  professed  to  know  Miss  Pierre,  who,  he 
said,  was  a  French  teacher  ;  and  as  he  was  a  very 
respectable  man,  and  promised  to  ferry  them  over 
from  Boston  himself,  and  be  accountable  for  their 
re-embarkation,  if  required,  he  was  permitted  to 
take  them.  Various  delays,  besides  the  distance, 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  213 

occasioned  them  to  reach  the  residence  of  Pauline 
at  a  late  hour. 

It  was  on  the  eventful  evening  when  we  left  our 
heroine,  after  her  interview  with  Colonel  Winslow, 
that  they  arrived.  Her  aged  and  pious  grandfather 
had  been  trying  to  sooth  her  feelings  and  elevate 
her  faith,  by  convincing  her  that  such  excess  of 
sensibility  was  wrong  ;  that  heaven  would,  in  its 
own  time,  restore  all  those  who  were  really  neces 
sary  to  her  good  ;  that  she  should  in  the  mean  time 
reflect  upon  her  present  blessings  ;  that  the  Lord 
had  given  her  favor  in  the  eyes  of  this  people  as  he 
did  Joseph,  after  he  had  been  sold  into  Egypt ;  and 
that  Jacob  thought  all  these  things  were  against 
him  when  every  thing  was  tending  to  bring  about 
a  most  important  and  desirable  termination. 

"  I  will  be  calm,  dear  grandfather,"  said  Pauline. 
"  I  realize  how  few  have  met  with  so  many  allevi 
ations  to  their  sorrows  as  myself,  distinguished  as  I 
have  been  above  almost  all  the  rest  of  my  unfortu 
nate  countiy-people.  But  in  enumerating  my  bles 
sings,  I  must  not  .forget  yourself.  What  could  I 
have  done  without  your  counsels  and  your  prayers?" 

11  Well,  the  night  wears  apace,  my  good  child," 
said  Gasper,  "  and  before  we  retire,  let  me  hear 
your  sweet  voice  sing  the  psalm,  '  God  is  our  refuge 
in  distress.' " 

The  two  children  mentioned  on  a  former  page, 
who  had  begged  to  sit  up  this  evening  until  dear 
Miss  Pauline  returned,  joined  coaxingly  in  the  re 
quest  ;  and  Pauline,  fatigued  as  she  was,  seated 
herself  at  the  harpsichord  and  commenced  the 
psalm. 

The  windows  of  the  apartment  were  open,  and 
only  partially  shaded  by  a  blind  half  way  open, 
when  Madam  St.  Pierre  and  her  party  drew  near. 
The  sound  of  the  sweet  voice  within,  in  their  own 
language,  and  in  a  well  known  tune,  oft  warbled 


214  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

among  their  native  vales,  arrested  their  footsteps. 
They  stopped  a  moment  to  listen ;  could  it  be  Pau 
line  ?  The  music  ceased,  and  Madam  St.  Pierre 
stepped  where  she  could  look  through  the  open 
blind.  It  was  indeed  Pauline  ;  she  was  leaning 
over  the  instrument  and  wiping  off  a  few  tears. 
Then  striking  the  chords  once  more  in  a  low  and 
melancholy  tune,  commenced  a  lament  of  the  exiles. 
Madam  waved  her  hand  to  the  impatient  Josephine, 
while  she  gazed  once  more  on  the  face  of  that 
beloved  child,  and  thought — Oh,  who  could  have 
thought  otherwise — that  her  peerless  and  unrivalled 
beauty  was  her  least  attraction.  There  was  a  di 
vinity  that  spoke  in  her  countenance,  that  proclaim 
ed  her  soul  of  the  highest  order.  Her  intellectual 
faculties  had  for  the  last  two  years  been  improved 
and  matured  by  study  ;  for  music,  which  was  only 
a  pastime,  had  been  so  easily  acquired,  it  had  not 
engrossed  a  fourth  of  her  time,  but  had  created  an 
ardent  desire  to  improve  herself  in  every  elegant 
and  useful  acquirement,  and  there  was  a  grace  and 
elegance  in  every  movement  rarely  equalled.  One 
moment  the  mother's  swelling  heart  permitted  her 
to  gaze  and  drink  in  the  music  of  that  enchanting 
voice  ;  the  next,  she  had  rushed  into  the  house  and 
clasped  the  beautiful  performer  to  her  bosorn,  ex 
claiming  in  an  agony  of  joy,  "  Do  you  not  know 
me  ?  do  you  not  me,  my  long  lost  child,  whom 
heaven  has  watched  over  ?  "  Josephine  had  sunk 
into  a  chair  and  covered  her  face,  while  Ferdinand 
stood  looking  in  at  the  door,  as  though  uncertain 
whether  to  advance  or  retreat. 

"  My  sister  !  "  at.  length  said  Pauline,  disengag 
ing  herself  from  her  mother's  arms,  "  can  this  be 
little  Josephine  ?  "  and  she  threw  herself  sobbing 
on  her  neck.  The  brother,  in  his  turn,  was  heartily 
welcomed.  Old  Gasper,  too,  who  was  seated  in  an 
arm  chair  at  the  further  corner  of  the  room,  receiv- 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  215 

ed  his  share  of  caresses.  And  now  a  rather  awk 
ward  circumstance  occurred,  namely,  to  introduce 
the  late  admirer  of  Pauline  as  a  brother-in-law  ;  but 
the  easy  and  unembarrassed  manner  of  the  forsaken 
one,  while  she  welcomed  him  with  all  the  famil 
iarity  of  an  old  friend,  convinced  them  that  absence 
had  done  quite  as  much  for  her  as  for  him,  and  the 
parties  were  soon  at  ease  on  that  score. 

One  of  the  children,  to  contribute  to  their  satis 
faction,  ran  and  brought  little  Sappho,  and  another 
recognition  took  place.  They  were  highly  delight 
ed,  too,  to  find  the  little  dog  appeared  not  to  have 
forgotten  them.  How  he  came  there,  Pauline  could 
not  tell ;  but  since  seeing  Colonel  Winslow  that 
evening,  she  believed  he  must  have  followed  some 
of  his  suit  on  board,  and  come  off  with  them. 

As  respected  the  plan  of  returning  to  Acadia, 
Pauline  listened  with  astonishment,  and  at  once 
decided  "  it  was  the  wildest  and  most  unadvised 
scheme  she  had  yet  heard  of,  and  utterly  refused  to 
join  in  such  a  hazardous,  and,  as  she  believed,  im 
practicable  undertaking ;  professing  her  belief  that 
the  civil  authorities  of  Boston  would  at  once  put  a 
stop  to  their  further  progress,  and  that  they  would 
not  be  permitted  to  leave  the  harbor  :  and  as  they 
listened  to  her  reasoning,  there  was  certainly  some 
thing  like  a  feeling  of  shame  at  having  engaged  in 
such  a  quixotic  expedition. 

We  will  not  stop  to  relate  the  interesting  conver 
sation  of  that  evening,  which  was  prolonged  to  a 
very  late  hour  ;  the  mutual  interchange  of  commu 
nication  ;  the  journal  of  their  own  sufferings,  and 
the  miseries  of  their  people  since  they  parted  on 
the  shores  of  the  Gaspereau,  were  all  narrated  and 
commented  on,  and  many  plans  proposed  for  the 
future.  To  the  fate  of  poor  Louis  she  dropped 
some  tears ;  but  as  she  had  never  believed  he  would 


216  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

long  survive  the  loss  of  his  family,  in  whom  his 
heart  was  bound  up,  her  grief  was  moderate. 

As  Pauline  predicted,  a  stop  was  put  to  the  fur 
ther  progress  of  the  unfortunate  exiles,  as  they 
were  met  the  next  day  by  an  order  of  Governor 
Lawrence  for  their  detention,  and  they  were  pre 
vented  from  leaving  the  harbor.  The  family  of 
Madam  St.  Pierre  concluded  to  remain  with  Pau 
line,  who  proposed,  with  the  help  of  her  brother- 
in-law  and  sister,  to  open  a  French  and '  music 
school.  The  historians  of  the  Neutral  French  rep 
resent  them  as  entirely  ignorant  of  the  passion  of 
jealousy,  and  here  was  a  striking  instance  of  the 
fact ;  for  the  new  school  was  set  up  together,  and 
went  on  with  the  utmost  harmony.  Some  of  the 
exiles  procured  leave  to  return  to  Pennsylvania, 
some  remained  where  they  were,  and  a  goodly 
number  ran  away,  and  took  their  course  through 
the  woods  of  Maine  up  the  forks  of  the  Kenriebec, 
sheltered  occasionally  by  a  friendly  tribe  of  Indians, 
until  they  reached  Canada. 

An  impatience  of  remaining  where  the  Almighty 
had  evidently  placed  them,  seemed  the  besetting 
sin  of  this  otherwise  exemplary  people.  We  shall 
see  in  the  end  how  much  was  gained  in  exchange, 
and  how  much  the  Lord  designed  for  them,  if  they 
would  have  quietly  submitted  to  become  incorpora 
ted  with  the  people  of  the  United  States.  Many 
of  them,  yea,  hundreds  of  them  did  so,  and  though 
they  lost  their  beautiful  name  of  Acadians,  and 
their  first  home,  yet  were  they  enabled,  after  the 
lapse  of  a  few  years,  to  exclaim  with  triumph. 
"  Where  Liberty  dwells,  there  is  my  country  !" 

Unable,  to  be  sure,  to  pierce  the  veil  of  futurity, 
yet  was  the  lesson  of  quiet  submission  to  the  evi 
dent  will  of  God,  deeply  impressed  upon  the  heart 
of  Pauline  ;  and  in  this  trying  season  to  her  coun 
trymen,  she  exerted  herself  to  the  utmost  to  com- 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  ,        2 17 

fort,  console,  and  encourage  the  disheartened  exiles. 
Even  before  they  were  permitted  to  land,  she  went 
on  board  every  coaster,  and  used  all  her  eloquence 
to  that  effect.  Nor  did  she  fail  to  narrate  her  own 
peculiar  trials,  and  speak  of  the  mercies  of  God 
towards  herself  and  her  family.  Often  a  glimmer 
ing,  though  distant  and  indistinct,  glance  at  the 
future  would  cross  her  vision,  (for  coming  events 
do  cast  their  shadows  before,)  and  she  would  speak 
in  holy  trust  of  the  mercies  in  store  for  those  who 
by  patient  continuance  in  well  doing  insure  the 
rewards  of  Providence. 

Won  by  her  arguments  or  her  eloquence,  many 
actually  relinquished  the  intention  they  had  formed 
to  join  the  stolen  march  across ,  the  country,  and 
remained  where  they  were.  Most  of  them,  indeed, 
came  to  this  resolution,  and  their  quiet  and  peacea 
ble  behaviour  so  won  upon  the  inhabitants,  that 
they  soon  had  reason  to  be  thankful  they  had  not 
prosecuted  their  hazardous  journey. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  Then  crush,  even  in  their  hours  of  birth, 

The  infant  seeds  of  love  ; 
And  tread  his  growing  fire  to  earth, 
Ere  dark  in  clouds  above."  —  HALLECK. 

IT  is  not  to  be  supposed  but  that  the  beauty  and 
fine  talents  of  Pauline  elicited  admiration,  and  oc 
casionally  procured  offers  from  persons  with  whom 
any  mother  might  have  been  willing  to  see  a  daugh 
ter  connected  ;  but  the  daughter  in  question  seemed, 
thus  far,  to  have  no  inclination  to  exchange  her 
situation.  She  had  always  managed  with  such 
prudence — a  rare  qualification  at  her  years — as  to 
19 


2J8  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

make  a  friend  where  she  rejected  a  lover.  We 
would  not  undertake  to  give  a"  history  of  all  her 
lovers  or  offers,  for  we  deem  the  description  of  such 
adventures  as  rather  too  trifling  for  rational  readers  ; 
but  there  was  one  which  we  think  of  too  interest 
ing  a  character  to  be  passed  over.  There  was  one 
young  man,  son  of  a  deceased  clergyman  of  the 
Presbyterian  order,  if  we  recollect  right,  and  des 
tined  for  that  profession  by  his  doating  mother,  who 
was  a  lady  of  very  aristocratic  pretensions  ;  though 
a  sensible,  and,  in  many  respects,  valuable  woman, 
she  was,  however,  as  little  qualified  for  a  clergy 
man's  wife  as  clergymen's  wives  usually  are.  The 
thought  that  our  fair  heroine  could  possibly  refuse 
the  honor  of  an  alliance,  never  occurred  to  her  ; 
and  relying  wholly  upon  her  own  efforts  to  break 
the  match,  she  sought  by  every  argument  in  her 
power  to  prevent  it ;  but  the  heart  of  the  young 
man  seemed  bound  up  in  the  damsel,  and  he  at 
length  told  his  mother  in  plain  terms  "  he  could 
not  live  without  her." 

When  matters  arrived  at  that  height,  of  course 
there  was  an  end  to  the  argument ;  and  all  the 
lady-mother  could  now  do  was  to  see  Pauline  and 
ascertain  if  it  was  possible  to  reclaim  her  from  her 
popish  errors.  Accordingly,  she  invited  her  to  a 
social  visit,  when  no  other  company  was  expected, 
in  order  to  hold  a  tete-a-tete  on  the  subject,  which 
Pauline,  perfectly  unsuspicious,  readily  accepted. 

She  commenced  by  attacking  her  upon  the  doc 
trines  of  transubstantiation  and  image-worship.  To 
the  first  our  heroine,  to  speak  the  truth,  could  say 
but  little,  never  having  bent  her  powerful  mind  to 
the  subject ;  but  to  the  last,  she  not  only  plead  not 
guilty,  but  warmly  exonerated  her  whole  people. 
"  Never  heard  of  such  a  thing  as  worshipping  ima 
ges  ;  could  not  credit  such  an  absurdity  ever  exist 
ed."  She  argued,  "  we  are  apt  to  think  of  what 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  219 

is  immediately  before  our  eyes,  and  she  had  always 
understood  the  representation  of  our  suffering  Sav 
iour  was  placed  over  the  altar  for  that  purpose,  to 
recall  with  vividness  the  memory  of  his  sacrifice." 
Some  conversation  then  took  place  upon  the  subject 
of  the  mediation  of  saints  and  angels  ;  Pauline  ar 
guing  "  nothing  more  was  meant  by  it  than  asking 
the  prayers  of  our  fellow-Christians,  who  were  sup 
posed  in  a  higher  state  of  sanctification  than  our 
selves,  a  thing  she  had  often  seen  practised  among 
protestants  ;  and  if  their  prayers  could  avail  us  any 
thing  while  in  a  state  of  imperfection,  why  not  in 
that  place  where  the  just  are  made  perfect?  " 

To  this  interrogatory,  Mrs.  Ackmoody  replied, 
"  that  it  was  idle,  because  we  had  no  warrant  for 
supposing  the  departed  saints  were  observing  the 
things  of  this  world  ;  and  even  if  so,  they  were 
not  omniscient  or  omnipresent,  these  were  attributes 
of  God  alone  ;  therefore  they  could  not  be  supposed 
to  hear  and  understand  all  the  prayers,  or  requests, 
if  you  will,  which  were  offered  to  them  at  one  and 
the  same  time  from  so  many  different  parts  of  the 
creation,  even  with  the  enlarged  vision  which  they 
would  doubtless  acquire.  And  again,  we  had  no 
warrant  for  supposing  there  was  any  thing  like 
prayer  among  the  l  saints  in  light ; '  the  presumption 
was,  that  prayer  would  in  heaven  give  place  to 
praise."  We  cannot  follow  them  through  all  the 
argument,  which  resulted,  however,  in  Mrs.  Ack 
moody  confessing  she  "  had  not  before  understood 
their  belief  on  this  subject,  and  that  if  it  was  not 
more  rational  than  she  expected,  it  was  at  least  less 
sinful,  and  that  she  began  to  think  the  gulf  between 
them  was  not  quite  as  wide  as  she  feared,  and  she 
could  not  see,  after  all,  why  'Pauline  would  not 
make  a  good  protestant." 

She  then  proceeded  :  u  You  have  had  little,  my 
dear  young  friend,  to  recommend  protestantism  to 


220  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

you,  in  the  conduct  of  those  who  have  banished 
you  from  your  beautiful  country." 

Pauline  assented,  "  that  it  had  not  particularly 
recommended  it ;  "  and  Mrs.  A.  went  on  to  say. 
"  that  the  conduct  of  the  British  and  provincials 
towards  your  harmless  people  should  have  been  at 
tributed  to  their  hostility  to  their  creed  is  not 
strange  ;  but  you  must  reflect  upon  the  ages  of 
persecution  from  your  own  church,  upon  the  wars, 
the  massacres,  and  the  burnings  she  has  practised, 
in  order  to  force  people  into  a  profession  which  they 
could  not  honestly  adopt.  Reflect  upon  the  horrors 
of  the  inquisition  ;  who  has  a  right  to  exercise  such 
tyranny  over  the  conscience  ?  Reflect  upon  the 
recent  persecution  of  the  Huguenots  of  France,  and 
their  present  situation." 

"  I  do  reflect  upon  all  these  things,  madam," 
said  the  patient  auditor  ;  "  and  if  my  own  blood 
could  wash  away  the  stain  of  such  guilt,  I  would 
freely  give  it ;  but  I  ascribe  such  tyranny  to  a  Dif 
ferent  cause.  1  think  the  possession  of  power  is 
the  source  of  the  evil.  In  the  history  of  nations, 
I  perceive  the  power  to  oppress  has  begat  the  dis 
position  to  do  so,  univerrally.  Power  was  not  made 
for  man.  The  riches,  too,  which  the  zeal  of  her 
votaries  has  poured  into  the  bosom  of  the  church, 
it  is  evident  has  corrupted  it,  and  has  been  the 
means  of  extending  the  power,  and  of  course  of 
increasing  the  evil.  In  beloved  Acadia  it  was  not 
so  ;  there  our  humble  pastors  received  but  a  little, 
and  that  was  freely  given,  I  mean  a  freewill  offer 
ing  ;  there  was  no  exaction,  nor  lording  it  over 
the  consciences  of  men.  But  do  you  not  think, 
madam,  that  the  church  of  England,  when  she 
comes  to  have  the  power,  will  be  as  intolerant  ? " 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Mrs.  A.  "I  apprehend  there 
is  a  greater  difference  between  papistry  and  protest- 
autism  than  you  imagine.  I  do  not  think  there  is 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  221 

such  a  Jesuitical  spirit  in  the  church  of  England, 
though  I  am  not  of  that  communion  myself.  I 
think  its  doctrines  favor  more  of  liberality  than  that 
church  which  is  clothed  with  all  the  terrors  of  the 
inquisition.  I  may  be  mistaken,  but  I  think  the 
spirit  of  avarice  and  hatred  to  the  French  has 
prompted  the  unjust  and  oppressive  measures  to 
wards  the  Catholics  of  Acadia,  more  than  religious 
persecution.  But^  Pauline,  what  do  you  think  of 
forbidding  priests  to  marry  ?  You  cannot  think  that 
right,  surely.  Priests  are  like  other  men,  and  need 
female  sympathy  and  society  as  much  ;  and  I  don't 
see  by  what  authority  they  are  forbidden  to  seek  it, 
and  to  form  the  most  delightful  of  all  relations  in 
life." 

"  I  think  it  right  they  should  not  marry,"  said 
Pauline,  promptly,  "  whether  they  are  forbidden  or 
not." 

"  But,  Pauline,  think  of  the  good  a  well-ordered 
family  can  do.  Every  body  looks  to  a  clergyman's 
wife  for  example,  you  know." 

"  Too  well  I  know  it,"  said  Pauline  ;  "  and  for 
that  reason,  among  others,  should  advise  them  to 
abstain  from  marrying.  The  watchman  upon  the 
walls  of  Zion  is  not  placed  there  to  form  delightful 
relations  in  life,  but  to  rescue  from  impending  death. 
He  is  not  to  entangle  himself  with  the  aifairs  of 
this  world,  neither.  If  it  be  true,  as  you  say,  that 
priests  are  like  other  men,  it  is  lamentably  true  that 
their  wives  are  like  other  women.  They  require 
the  same  indulgences,  have  the  same  propensity  to 
vanity  and  frivolity  that  most  females,  I  grieve  to 
say,  have,  and  which  the  mistaken  system  of  female 
education  has  made  an  almost  involuntary  fault. 
Believe  me,  dear  madam,  that  since  my  frequent 
intercourse  with  protestants,  I  have  become  con 
vinced  that  the  connection  you  speak  of  has  retard 
ed  the  usefulness  of  the  minister  of  the  gospel 
19* 


222  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

more  than  it  has  promoted  it.  Somehow  the  dwel 
ling  of  the  clergyman  favors  as  much  of  pride  and 
state  as  any  place  one  goes  into.  The  ambition  of 
the  lady  is  generally  to  be  considered  the  first  wo 
man  in  the  parish,  and  very  likely  the  leader  of 
fashions  j  hence,  while  the  husband  is  preaching 
humility  and  self-denial,  and  the  blessing  of  being 
poor,  and  that  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  &c.7 
his  own  house  is  the  autipode  to  ail  he  recommends, 
the  headquarters  of  the  aristocracy  of  the  church, 
the  very  place  where  the  line  of  demarcation  that 
excludes  the  poor  of  this  world  is  drawn  ;  the  place 
where  the  most  arrogant  pretensions  are  assumed 
and  allowed  in  persons  who  claim  respectability 
solely  on  account  of  their  wealth  and  fashion." 

Mrs.  Ackmoody  had  collected  in  her  brain  a  fund 
of  knock-down  arguments  with  which  to  assail  the 
obnoxious  tenets  of  the  church  of  Rome.  The 
subject  of  indulgences,  in  particular,  was  one  she 
meant  to  attack  next,  and  where  she  doubtless 
would  have  been  victorious ;  but  the  unlucky 
chance  by  which  she  stumbled  upon  the  subject  of 
forbidding  to  marry,  &c.,  quite  drove  them  from 
her  memory.  She  was  a  woman  of  deep  sense,  of 
great  powers  of  reasoning,  and  of  elegant  manners  j 
but  a  mistaken  education  in  the  first  place,  and  a 
mistaken  fondness  in  the  last,  had  made  her,  in  her 
married  life,  just  the  character  described,  and  con 
science  supplied  the  application.  With  her  hand 
pressed  over  her  eyes,  she  sat  ruminating  upon  her 
own  past  life.  A  voice  had  spoken  to  her  as  Na 
than  did  to  David,  and  let  us  hope  that  she  felt 
something  of  David's  remorse.  She  could  not  but 
look  back  through  the  long  vista  of  years ;  she  re 
membered  with  now  useless  regret,  the  gentle  and 
patient  being  whose  usefulness  she  had  hindered, 
whose  fame  she  had  tarnished,  whose  hopes  she 
had  withered,  and  whose  heart  she  had  broken  by 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  223 

her  pride,  extravagance,  and  perverseness.  Again, 
in  imagination,  the  voice  of  mild  remonstrance 
sounded  in  her  ears,  and  the  eye  that  was  so  often 
turned  to  hers  in  kind  expostulation  or  loving  en 
treaty,  seemed  to  look  into  her  very  soul,  and  a 
few  scalding  tears,  unobserved,  as  she  thought,  by 
her  guest,  stole  down  her  cheek,  and  she  could  say 
no  more. 

As.  no  further  opposition  was  offered  to  the  wishes 
of  the  young  man,  he  waited  on  their  guest  the 
ensuing  day,  flushed  with  the  hope  that  the  amia 
ble  but  high-souled  papist  might  become  all  he 
wished,  and  made  an  offer  of  his  hand  ;  when, 
alas  !  to  his  utter  astonishment,  she  positively  de 
clined  the  offer,  though  with  many  expressions  of 
gratitude  for  his  favorable  opinion.  What  the  effect 
of  the  unlooked-for  termination  of  this  affair  was, 
upon  the  mother  or  the  son,  we  cannot  tell ;  but 
the  effect  on  Pauline  was  a  full  determination  to 
expose  herself  as  little  as  possible  to  such  attentions 
in  future,  for  most  truly  did  it  grieve  her  to  witness 
the  disappointment  and  mortification  of  the  young 
man,  whose  disinterested  attachment  she  felt  it  im 
possible  to  return. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"  If  thou  have  power  to  raise  him,  bring  him  hither, 
And  I'll  be  sworn  I've  power  to  shame  him  hence." 

IT  was  no  disadvantage  to  Pauline  to  have  such 
an  addition  to  her  family  as  Madam  St.  Pierre. 
The  dignified  manners  of  that  lady  secured  her 
instant  respect  wherever  seen  ;  and  the  matronly 
part  of  her  acquaintance,  who  easily  discovered  the 
foundation  of  Pauline's  character  in  the  upright  and 


224  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

correct  principles  of  the  mother,  were  not  slow  to 
show  her  many  civilities,  and  she  found  her  name 
often  included  in  invitations  to  fashionable  houses, 
to  visit  with  her  daughter.  Nor  was  Josephine 
overlooked.  The  good  sense  of  Madam  St.  Pierre, 
however,  told  her  she  was  riot  in  a  situation  to 
engage  in  a  round  of  visiting ;  and  that  propriety 
as  well  as  economy  demanded  she  should  devote 
her  time  to  the  concerns  of  the  family,  and  live  as 
much  in  retirement  as  possible.  The  extent  of  her 
recreation  was  in  partaking  in  the  delightful  walks 
which  her  daughter  often  indulged  in,  and  she 
highly  enjoyed  the  fine  air  and  fine  scenery  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  picturesque  site  they  had  chosen. 

With  Pauline^  Madam  St.  Pierre  delighted  most 
to  take  these  walks,  for  she  was  able  to  lead  to  all 
the  best  and  most  romantic  ;  and  her  conversation, 
at  all  times  a  feast  to  her  mother,  on  these  occa 
sions  was  so  animated,  so  sensible,  and  instructive, 
that  she  frequently  said,  in  listening  to  them,  she 
felt  lifted  above  the  world.  It  was  a  rare  sight, 
indeed,  to  see  a  mother  watching  for  instruction 
from  the  lips  of  a  daughter. 

It  was  on  one  of  these  walks,  when  allured  by 
the  beauty  of  the  flowery  vales  they  had  wandered 
through,  they  had  strolled  an  unusually  long  way 
from  home,  Beguiled  too  by  the  artless  prattle  of 
the  two  children  who  had  accompanied  them,  and 
amused  with  the  pranks  of  the  little  dog  who  gam 
bolled  before  them,  that,  overcome  with  fatigue 
and  the  heat  of  the  weather,  Pauline  had  placed 
Madam  on  a  log  near  the  brow  of  a  hill  that  com 
manded  a  view  of  the  river,  and  inhaled  the  pure 
breeze  that  wantoned  on  its  bosom.  Seated  on  the 
bank  at  her  feet,  she  was  fanning  herself  with  her 
bonnet,  for  the  first  time  forgetful  of  her  little 
charge  who  had  wandered  on  a  short  distance  be- 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  225 

fore,  gathering  daisies  and  other  wild  flowers.  In 
sensibly,  the  conversation  had  wandered  to  the  sub 
ject  of  their  sufferings  and  exile  from  their  native 
land  ;  and  as  Madam  looked  down  upon  the  beau 
tiful  face  of  her  daughter,  she  felt  that  much  as  she 
loved  her,  she  had  never  realized  her  worth  :  so 
young,  so  sensible,  so  prudent,  so  modest,  and  yet 
so  firm  and  fearless  in  duty.  "  Oh,  what  she 
thought,  can  speak  the  value  of  such  a  child  ! " 

She  had  not  time,  however,  to  pursue  the  train 
of  reflections  ere  she  was  interrupted  by  one  of  the 
children,  who  came  running  out  of  breath,  exclaim 
ing,  "  O  Mamoselle  Pauline  !  a  naughty,  wicked 
gentleman  has  caught  Sappho,  and  is  carrying  him 
off."  Not  even  stopping  to  put  on  her  bonnet, 
which  she  threw  upon  the  bank,  Pauline  bounded 
over  the  hill,  followed  by  the  children,  and  rushed 
to  the  bottom,  with  her  face  flushed  and  hair 
dishevelled  in  the  wind,  and  in  a  moment  found 
herself  face  to  face  with  Colonel  Winslow.  Amia 
ble,  forgiving,  and  pious  as  she  was,  there  was 
something  in  the  sight  of  this  man  that  called  up 
all  the  resentment  her  nature  was  capable  of,  and 
she  demanded,  with  something  approaching  to  hau 
teur,  the  release  of  the  little  quadruped. 

Colonel  Winslow,  who  was  holding  the  strug 
gling  dog  in  his  arms,  seemed  no  way  inclined  to 
give  up  his  prize,  saying,  "  the  dog  had  been  lost 
some  time  before  in  the  streets  of  Boston,  by  one 
of  his  family." 

"  The  dog,  Sir,  is  mine,"  replied  Pauline,  "  and 
you  will  be  good  enough  to  restore  him,  I  hope,  to 
the  rightful  owner." 

"  He  belongs  to  me,  young  woman,"  said  the 
Colonel,  somewhat  fiercely  ;  "  I  brought  him  from 
.Nova  Scotia  some  years  ago." 

"  He  was  mine,  Sir,  before  you  ever  came  there," 
said  Pauline,  trembling  with  emotion  ;  "  mine,  be- 


226  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

fore  the  ruthless  foot  of  British  soldier  trod  my 
father's  lands  ;  mine,  before  a  people  enjoying  com 
fort  and  affluence,  were  driven  out  to  misery  and 
beggary." 

"  But  not  before  your  fathers  instigated  those 
hellhounds,  the  Tarratine  Indians,'  to  commit  such 
butcheries  on  our  borders,  I  presume,"  said  the 
Colonel,  with  a  contemptuous^  sneer. 

u  They  never  did  so,"  exclaimed  a  new  voice, 
as  the  tall  and  stately  person  of  Madam  St.  Pierre 
drew  up  beside  her  daughter  •  "  the  vengeful  pas 
sions  of  that  savage  race  were  excited  by  your  own 
want  of  good  faith." 

"  Well,  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  disputing  politi 
cal  subjects  with  women,  and  especially  with  half 
a  dozen  at  a  time  ;  but  the  dog  I  must  take  the 
liberty  to  carry  home,"  said  the  Colonel.  He  turn 
ed  off  and  was  walking  away  ;  but  the  agitated 
Pauline  springing  before  him,  arrested  his  steps, 
while  she  firmly  repeated, 

"  Colonel  Winslow,  let  it  suffice  to  have  separa 
ted  husbands  and  wives,  parents  and  children,  and 
brethren  and  sisters.  Methinks  you  have  cruelty 
enough  to  reflect  upon  for  the  remainder  of  your 
days,  without  the  poor  addition  of  stealing  a  dog." 

"  Insolence  !  "  said  the  Colonel.  "  Why,  woman, 
who  are  you  ?  "  with  that  peculiar  stare  of  effron 
tery  that  the  little  great  of  this  world  sometimes 
assume,  in  order  to  awe  their  inferiors.  But  the 
Colonel  reckoned  without  his  host  in  this  instance ; 
for  the  blood  of  Louis,  though  under  excellent  con 
trol  in  general,  was  up  in  arms,  and  she  answered 
with  firmness, 

"  One  who  feared  not  to  tell  you  the  truth  while 
surrounded  by  your  myrmidons,  and  the  sword  was 
suspended  over  her  head,  and  who  would  not  take 
your  burdened  conscience  for  all  the  honors  you 
will  ever  arrive  at." 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  227 

u  By  heaven  !  this  is  too  much/'  said  the  Colonel. 
li  Woman,  you  shall  repent."  Involuntarily,  he 
laid  his  hand  upon  his  sword,  and  the  movement 
giving  little  Sappho  one  chance,  he  sprang  and  was 
out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 

"  Oh,  he  is  gone  !  "  exclaimed  Pauline,  wringing 
her  hands  ;  "  my  poor  little  fellow^  I  shall  never 
see  thee  again." 

"  Don't  mind  it,  my  child,"  said  the  alarmed 
mother,  drawing  the  arm  of  her  daughter  through 
her  own.  "  The  sight  of  us  must  doubtless  be  an 
offence  to  those  who  have  destroyed  us.  Your 
sword,  gracious  Sir,"  turning  to  the  incensed  Col 
onel,  "  might  once  have  done  us  service  ;  better  we 
should  all  have  been  slaughtered,  than  dealt  by  as 
we  have."  So  saying,  she  walked  rapidly  away, 
drawing  the  reluctant  Pauline  along  with  her,  who 
could  not  help,  however,  now  and  then  stealing  a 
look  over  her  shoulder,  in  hopes  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  her  lost  favorite ;  and  she  who  saw  herself 
driven  forever  from  her  home  and  country  with 
such  surpassing  fortitude,  actually  shed  tears  at  the 
loss  of  a  dog.  So  strange  is  human  nature. 

Wearied  and  distressed,  the  two  ladies  at  length 
regained  their  home,  where  they  decided  to  say 
nothing  about  the  events  of  the  morning,  Madam 
thinking  it  would  alarm  Josephine,  who  was  very 
timid,  and  perhaps  distress  poor  old  Gasper  with 
needless  fears  ;  for  she  could  not  but  think  upon 
reflection,  that  Colonel  Winslow,  in  his  cooler  mo 
ments,  would  feel  ashamed  of  having  exhibited 
resentment  upon  so  trifling  an  occasion. 

What  the  reflections  of  that  gallant  officer  were, 
we  have  no  means  of  ascertaining  ;  but  as  he  had 
no  doubt  often  secretly  blessed  himself  that  he  got 
•out  of  that  ravaged  country  alive,  it  is  not  improb 
able  that  the  idea  of  the  latent  spirit  that  dwelt  in 
the  bosoms  of  that  exiled  race,  somewhat  awed 


228  THE    NEUTRAL    FREN'CH. 

him  :  for  certain  it  was,  he  took  good  care  to  keep- 
out  of  their  wi.y  ever  after.  And  though  his  men 
acing  look  haunted  our  heroine  for  many  days,  yet 
the  countenance  that  wore  it,  never  again  appeared 
in  her  sight. 

Pauline,  upon  entering,  threw  herself  in  a  chair 
in  no  very  enviable  frame  of  mind.  There  lay  the 
cushion  upon  which  her  little  dumb  favorite  used 
to  repose,  and  there  stood  the  cup  of  water  to  which 
he  always  ran  first  upon  entering  the  house  after 
their  long  walks.  The  idea  that  some  one  might 
be  cruel  to  him  on  her  account,  silly  as  such  an 
idea  would  have  appeared  in  any  other  person,  more 
than  once  crossed  her  mind.  But,  resolving  to 
shake  off  the  painful  feelings  the  loss  of  her  dog 
had  occasioned,  and,  above  all.  the  irritated  ones 
that  the  unexpected  sight  of  their  ancient  foe  had 
awakened,  she  arose  to  hang  up  their  bonnets  in 
the  little  recess  at  the  end  of  the  room  ;  and  there, 
in  a  dark  comer  of  it,  half  hidden  by  a  shawl  he 
had  contrived  to  creep  under,  lay  little  Sappho, 
trembling  like  an  aspen  leaf.  With  true  canine 
sagacity,  he  had  sought  his  home  by  a  circuitous 
route,  and  arrived  long  before  his  mistress  ;  but 
such  was  his  fright,  that  he  never  offered  to  follow 
any  of  them  on  a  walk  for  a  long  time  afterwards. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"  Thus,  when  the  good  man  dies, 
Ere  yet  the  everlasting  gates  unfold, 
Shall  light  prophetic  dawn  upon  his  soul." 

THE  days  of  old  Gasper  drew  towards  a  close. 
More  than  fourscore  years  had  whitened  his  head. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  229 

and  we  may  truly  say,  that  more  than  the  sorrows 
of  a  century  had  been  measured  out  to  him.  Bereft 
of  sight  for  many  years,  exiled  in  his  old  age  from 
his  native  land,  deprived  of  all  his  children,  and 
now  about  to  lay  his  bones  in  a  land  of  strangers. 
Yet  had  his  confidence  in  God  suffered  no  diminu 
tion  ;  the  language  of  his  lips  and  heart  had  been. 
"  though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him  ;  "  and 
that  great  Being  whom  he  had  faithfully  served,  did 
not  desert  him  now.  Not  a  shade  dimmed  the 
brightness  of  his  prospects,  not  a  shadow  intervened 
between  him  and  immortality.  The  promise  that 
"  whosoever  will  do  his  will,  .shall  know  of  the 
doctrines,  whether  they  be  of  man  or  of  God,"  was 
abundantly  fulfilled  in  his  case.  He  was  asked 
whether  "  they  should  try  to  procure  a  priest  of  his 
church  to  administer  the  last  rites  of  religion  ?  " 
but  he  shook  his  head,  saying,  "  1  have  no  need, 
the  great  High  Priest  is  with  me."  You  will  ask, 
perhaps,  "if  he  died  a  Catholic  ?  "  It  is  probable 
he  did  not  think  of  religious  distinctions  ;  for  it  is 
only  when  death  appears  at  a  distance,  that  we 
have  leisure  for  that. 

All  the  family  of  the  venerable  man  watched 
him  with  affectionate  interest  ;  but  there  was  one 
who  felt  more  than  all  the  rest,  though  she  would 
not  sadden  the  last  hours  of  the  departing  saint 
by  useless  lamentation.  Often  would  the  dying 
patriarch  lay  his  hand  upon  her  head  and  bless 
her,  imploring  heaven  "  that  its  choicest  mercies 
might  be  showered  upon  her ;  that  all  she  had 
been  to  him  might  come  up  in  remembrance  before 
God  :  and  that  as  she  had  thus  by  his  providence 
been  brought  to  this  land,  she  might  like  Joseph, 
in  the  day  of  trial,  be  found  a  blessing  to  her 
brethren,  and  also  to  the  people  among  whom  God 
had  placed  her." 

And  often,  very  often  did  he  pray,  "  that  the 
20 


230  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

evil  that  had  been  wrought  them,  might  not  ba 
avenged  upon  this  people,  but  that  they  might  b^ 
pardoned  for  their  share  of  the  guilt,  and  visited 
in  ages  to  come  with  the  special  mercies  of  the 
Most  High  ;  that  every  man  might  be  permitted 
to  sit  under  his  own  vine  and  figtree,  with  none 
to  make  them  afraid ;  and  that  the  Lord  would  pour 
out  blessings  upon  this  land  there  should  not  be 
room  to  receive."  This  was  the  climax  of  Chris 
tian  feeling.  "  Bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good 
to  them  that  hate  you,  and  pray  for  them  that 
scornfully  and  despitefully  use  you  and  persecute 
you,"  was  the  command  of  our  blessed  Saviour. 
But  how  few  are  equal  to  this  thing  ! 

It  was  on  one  of  the  finest  days  of  summer,  that 
the  venerable  old  man,  professing  to  feel  himself 
much  revived,  expressed  a  wish  to  be  carried  out  to 
enjoy  the  air.  Refreshed  and  invigorated  by  the 
breeze,  he  then  insisted  upon  ascending  the  green 
hill  that  rose  just  by  their  habitation.  "  I  wish 
once  more,"  said  he,  "  to  feel  the  reviving  influence 
of  the  sun  before  I  go  to  that  world  where  the 
Lamb  shall  be  the  light  thereof."  His  requests 
were  law  to  the  family  and  to  the  kind  neighbors, 
their  countrymen,  who  usually  assisted  them  on 
these  occasions,  and  though  feeling  it  was  rather 
too  far  for  one  so  much  exhausted,  they  neverthe 
less  continued  slowly  and  gently  to  bear  him  to  the 
eminence. 

"  Oh  my  dear  grandfather,"  said  Pauline,  when 
they  had  softly  sat  him  down,  "  how  I  wish  you 
could  see  this  enchanting  landscape  ;  the  beautiful 
river  in  front,  and  charming  islands  that  encircle 
the  harbor ;  the  whole  peninsular  lies  before  us  as 
a  map,  and  Boston,  with  its  glittering  spires,  its 
splendid  edifices,  and  forest  of  masts  ;  and  then 
the  numberless  little  creeks,  the  streams  that  empty 
themselves  into  this  river  j  the  long  promontory 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  231 

that  runs  so  far  into  the  sea  ;  the  hill  behind  us, 
and  numerous  heights  around  ;  the  little  city  be 
low  :  the  towns  in  the  distance  ;  the  outward  bound 
vessels,  lessening  every  moment  as  they  recede  ; 
the  fort ;  and  then  the  sea !  the  sea  !  the  dark 
green  sea  !  " — and  the  enraptured  Pauline  was  run 
ning  herself  almost  out  of  breath,  when  suddenly 
she  was  stopped  by  feeling  the  arm  that  rested  on 
hers  quiver.  She  looked  at  her  grandfather  :  his 
whole  frame  was  quaking  in  a  manner  she  had 
never  witnessed  before  ;  his  eyes  were  closed.  She 
could  not  speak — an  awful  sensation  of  she  knew 
not  what,  shut  her  lips.  The  tall  figure  of  the 
patriarch  rose  slowly  from  the  chair,  and  his  arms 
were  stretched  out  towards  the  East,  where  lay  the 
city  opposite,  while  he  repeated, 

"  Blessed  art.  thou  !  Thou  hast  been  first  to  af 
flict,  thou  shalt  be  first  to  feel  the  hand  of  the 
oppressor.  The  sufferings  of  our  race  shall  be 
atoned  for  in  thee.  Thy  sons  shall  be  dragged  into 
captivity,  and  thy  daughters  mourn  in  sackcloth. 
Widows  and  orphans  yet  unborn  shall  rue  the  pun 
ishment  of  this  sin  thou  hast  committed.  But  bles 
sed  art  thou  !  for  out  of  thee  shall  come  forth  a 
light  that  shall  enlighten  all  the  land.  The  ground 
whereon  I  stand  is  shaken.  I  hear  the  roar  of 
battle,  and  feel  the  shock  of  contending  armies. 

"  From  the  East  to  the  pathless  solitudes  of  the 
far  West,  they  come  as  doves  to  their  windows. 
The  Star  of  Freedom  lights  them  on  the  way. 
There  is  a  waving  of  standards,  and  gleaming  of 
arms.  .The  sea  is  covered  -with  the  ships  of  hostile 
navies.  The  flames  of  the  city  below  me  are  tow 
ering  towards  heaven,  and  calling  down  vengeance, 
while  the  cries  of  the  wounded  and  groans  of  the 
dying  ring  in  my  ears  ! 

"  But  who  is  he  approaching  in  the  distance; 
glorious  in  the  panoply  of  truth,  leader  of  the  ar- 


232  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

mies  of  freedom,  but  the  angel  of  death  to  the 
legions  of  despotism  ?  They  fall  before  him  like 
the  grain  before  the  scythe  of  the  mower.  But, 
alas  !  they  crowd — they  rush  upon — they  surround 
him  !  What  power  shall  aid  ?  Where  is  my  coun 
try  ?  where  ? She  comes !  she  comes  ! 

the  flower  de  luce,  the  standard  of  the  Bourbons  ! 
France  to  the  rescue  !  France  to  the  rescue ! " 
shouted  the  patriarch,  in  a  voice  whose  shrill  tones 
rang  clear  and  distinct  o'er  the  waters  of  Charles 
river,  as  he  fell  back  into  the  arms  of  his  family 
and  expired.  A  silence  as  of  death  ensued — not 
a  word  was  spoken.  In  holy  awe  and  chastened 
submission  each  head  was  bent  as  they  slowly  bore 
him  from  BUNKER'S  HILL.  —  —  —  —  — 


"  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord." 
No  gilded  coffin,  nor  nodding  plumes,  nor  muffled 
drum,  nor  soldiers  with  arms  reversed,  accompa 
nied  to  their  last  home  the  earthly  remains  of  him 
whose  immortal  part  had  passed  into  the  heavens  ; 
but  a  long  line  of  "  the  poor  of  this  world,"  of 
exiles  from  their  native  land,  of  persons  whose 
hearts  had  been  broken,  whose  spirits  and  energies 
had  been  .crushed  under  the  iron  car  of  despotism, 
whose  hopes  and  ambition  had  fled  together,  and 
most  of  whom  wished  the  lot  of  the  dead  had  been 
theirs,  in  slow  and  solemn  array  followed  the  lowly 
bier.  The  mourning  family  deeply  felt  the  loss  of 
him  who  for  so  many  years  had  been  their  guide 
and  counsellor,  and  their  tears  attested  their  sense 
of  the  bereavement ;  but  there  was  one  exception, 
one  individual  among  those  mourners,  whose  firm 
and  elastic  step  spoke  more  than  resignation  :  there 
was  an  animation,  an  elevation  of  spirit  about  her, 
amazing  to  those  who  had  witnessed  the  deep  inter 
est  and  affectionate  solicitude  with  which  she  had 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH  233 

regarded  the  departed.  Some  there  were,  almost 
ready  to  accuse  her  of  want  of  feeling,  until  the 
service  of  the  grave  commenced,  when  the  clasped 
hands,  raised  eyes,  look  of  holy  trust,  and  perfect 
resignation,  convinced  them  it  was  something  very 
remote  from  insensibility. 

There  was  a  vacuum  in  the  family  of  our  exiles, 
created  by  the  death  of  the  venerable  St.  Pierre, 
that  was  felt  by  all,  though  there  could  be  no  lam 
entation  for  the  glorious  exit  of  one  whose  whole 
life,  as  well  as  his  death,  was  a  triumph. 

Of  the  remarkable  circumstances  attending  his 
exit,  but  little  was  said  openly.  Among  their 
brother  exiles,  however,  it  was  often  discussed,  and 
like  the  people  of  old  time,  they  "  wondered  what 
these  things  should  mean  ? "  and  various  conject 
ures  were  hazarded  as  to  the  solution.  Often,  of 
a  winter's  evening,  would  a  company  of  those 
who  had  given  over  all  hope  of  ever  revisiting 
their  native  land,  assemble  at  the  fireside  of  Madam 
St.  Pierre,  and,  in  half  whispers,  talk  over  the 
mysterious  and  exciting  subject  •  and  some  would 
even  imagine  they  discovered  in  the  signs  of  the 
times  a  coming  fulfillment  of  the  prophecy,  but 
very  dark  indeed  were  some  of  their  solutions. 
Others  manifested  quite  an  impatience,  and  with 
that  unbelieving  race  that  asks  "  where  is  the  prom 
ise  of  his  coming  ?  "  were  ready  to  despond. 

It  was  on  such  occasions,  that  Pauline  would  re 
mind  them  that  the  prophecies  of  old  times  were 
not  fulfilled  in  a  moment  j  that  ages  had  rolled 
away  before  many  of  them  were  even  understood  ; 
and  with  sweet  persuasion  she  would  chide  their 
unbelief,  and  exhort  them  to  renewed  confidence 
and  trust  in  Him,  whose  wisdom  and  mercy  she 
believed  would  yet  be  made  manifest. 

Happy  would  it  have  been  for  this  most  unfortu 
nate  people,  if  they  could  early  have  been  persua- 
20* 


234  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

ded  of  the  wisdom  of  quiet  submission  and  con 
tentment  in  the  land  where  the  Lord  their  God 
had  brought  them.  The  fate  of  those  who  elrtded 
the  authorities  of  the  province  of  Massachusetts, 
and  fled,  in  the  foolish  expectation  of  regaining 
their  native  place,  was  peculiarly  hard.  Few  of 
them  lived  to  cross  the  border  again,  and  of  those 
who  attempted  it  successfully,  their  sufferings  must 
have  Ibeeri  dreadful.  Obliged  to  skulk  in  the  forests 
by  day,  and  often  encamp  in  some  swamp  by  night, 
constantly  afraid  of  being  surprised  and  compelled 
to  return,  they  had  little  to  comfort  them  except 
the  occasional  hospitality  of  their  Indian  friends. 
Many  of  those  had  some  knowledge  of  their  lan 
guage,  and  many  were  believers  in  their  religion ; 
and  they  probably  received  that  pity  and  assistance 
from  them  they  might  have  solicited  in  vain  from 
the  provincials  :  for  such  was  the  fatal  prejudice 
against  every  thing  French,  that  they  would  most 
probably  have  been  immediately  informed  against, 
and  by  that  means  stopped  on  their  journey  and 
sent  back.  Against  all  risks  of  this  kind,  the  wan 
dering  Acadians  were  guarded  ;  and  stopping  occa 
sionally  to  procure  food  and  bury  their  dead,  who, 
alas  !  dropped  on  their  path  like  leaves  in  autumn, 
they  at  length  surmounted  the  difficulties  of,  the 
way  from  Boston  to  New  Brunswick. 

It  has  been  supposed  by  many,  that  the  remnant 
of  this  people,  who  wandered  back  at  that  time, 
formed  the  first  settlement  of  the  Madawaska,  to 
which  scattered  companies,  secreted  in  the  woods, 
occasionally  joined  themselves.  Various  places  in 
the  wide  forests  of  New  Brunswick  and  the  dispu 
ted  territory,  show  signs  of  having  once  been  the 
retreat  of  these  unfortunate  people.  In  particular, 
the  one  not  far  from  Mars  Hill,  where  there  is  a 
very  considerable  burial  place,  and  the  remains  of 
some  of  the  rude  crosses  on  the  graves  are  still  to 
be  seen. 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  235 

We  must  now  leave  the  interesting  family  of  St. 
Pierre  for  a  period  of  fifteen  years,  that  is,  from  the 
capture  of  Gluebec,  in  the  year  1761.  to  the  com 
mencement  of  the  revolutionary  war,  just  stopping 
to  narrate  that,  immediately  after  the  first  mention 
ed  event,  or,  rather,  after  the  peace  that  followed 
it,  Pauline  became  connected  in  marriage  with  a 
young  French  gentleman,  who  had  formerly  resided 

in  the  Canadas,  the  Chevalier  D .  This  lady, 

who  had  uniformly  persisted  in  freezing  all  her 
English  lovers  out  doors,  somehow,  no  one  can  tell, 
surrendered  her  heart  at  once  to  the  amiable  and 
elegant  Frenchman,  and  with  the  full  and  joyful 
approbation  of  all  her  friends,  married  him.  The 
courtship  was  a  short  one.  but  she  had  no  reason  to 
repent  her  choice.  Her  husband  shortly  after  went 
to  France  to  settle  some  business,  and  then  returned 
arid  removed  his  wife  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  had 
some  connections.  By  this  means,  Pauline  and  her 
two  eldest  surviving  brothers  became  neighbors. 
One  of  them  had  married  a  daughter  of  Captain 
Cummings,  and  the  other  a  descendant  of  Renne 
Le  Blanc,  and  were  both  in  easy  circumstances. 
Ferdinand  and  his  young  wife  preferred  Boston, 
and  the  youngest  son  of  Madam  St.  Pierre,  who 
married  there.  Madam  agreed  to  reside  alternately 
with  her  children  ;  but  as  Josephine  had  always 
been  quite  a  pet,  she  still  continued  to  monopolize 
most  of  her  mother's  society. 

Of  Louis  the  elder,  no  certain  tidings  had  been 
heard.  A  report  had  reached  them  that  he  had 
been  in  Canada,  and  went  to  France  at  the  capture 
of  Quebec,  and  died  on  the  passage  out.  As  a  price 
had  been  set  upon  his  head,  he  dared  not  come  into 
the  British  provinces. 

We  must  now  stop  a  few  moments  to  speak  of 
the  affairs  at  Acadia,  or  Nova  Scotia,  after  the  de 
parture  of  those  whose  banishment  we  have  narra- 


236  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

ted.  The  proceedings  of  the  English  and  provin 
cials  towards  the  remnant  left  behind,  were  marked 
with  more  severity  even  than  to  the  former  ;  resent 
ing  as  they  did  the  attempt  to  elude  them,  when 
the  seven  thousand  were  sent  away.  The  woods 
were  scoured,  and  every  effort  made  to  hunt  up  the 
residue.  As  we  stated  before,  a  very  considerable 
number  escaped  to  the  Canadas  ;  many  perished  in 
the  woods,  and  some  encamped  with  the  Indians, 
and  finally  became  incorporated  with  the  tribes  ; 
others,  becoming  famished  in  their  hiding-places, 
came  forward  and  surrendered,  rather  than  perish 
by  starvation  ;  and  others  again  were  found  and 
pounced  upon  by  the  British  soldiery.  Of  these 
two  last,  the  whole  number  were  conveyed  to  Hal 
ifax,  prisoners.  What  were  the  tender  mercies  of 
the  victors  towards  them  during  the  six  years  they 
were  kept  in  that  region  ;  or,  in  plain  English,  in 
what  way  they  lived,  we  are  not  able  to  say,  since 
history  makes  no  further  mention  of  them  until 
1761,  the  time  the  French  captured  the  town  of 
St.  Johns,  when,  fearing  a  rescue  from  their  prox 
imity,  it  was  deemed  expedient  to  send  them  out 
of  Nova  Scotia.  Accordingly,  these  poor,  persecu 
ted  beings  were  all  embarked  and  sent  to  Boston, 
and  ahead  of  them  went  despatches  from  the  Gov 
ernor  or  President  of  Nova  Scotia,  to  Governor 
Barnard,  the  then  Governor  of  Massachusetts  Bay, 
politely  "requesting"  him,  in  a  manner  that  amount 
ed  to  a  command,  "  to  make  arrangements  for  their 
settlement  in  that  province/' 

Now,  the  authorities  of  Boston  had  long  began 
to  weary  of  a  game  in  which  they  were  always 
sure  to  be  losers.  The  vast  expense  attending  the 
reception  of  the  first  company,  who,  as  we  before 
stated,  mostly  became  a  public  charge,  had  never 
been  remunerated  by  the  parent  government,  to  say 
nothing  of  all  the  expenses  of  raising  forces,  fitting 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  237 

out  vessels,  and  other  expensive  arrangements  at 
tending  this  unholy  expedition,  for  which  a  very 
limited  compensation  had  been  granted  ;  and  they 
very  wisely  concluded  now,  it  was  time  for  them 
to  make  a  stand.*  Anticipating  then  the  immediate 
arrival  of  the  vessels,  they  assembled  in  General 
Court  to  consult  what  was  to  be  done  ;  and  the 
first  thing  was  to  send  word  for  the  transports  to 
anchor  under  the  guns  of  Castle  William  while 
their  consultations  were  going  on. 

The  Bostonians  even  then  appear  to  have  had 
some  idea  of  doing  business  on  their  own  hook  ; 
for,  after  short  consultation,  they  very  positively 
forbade  the  exiles  to  be  landed,  and  directed  the 
Governor  "  on  no  account  to  permit  such  another 
burden  to  fall  on  the  people." 

A  report  of  these  proceedings  were  despatched 
without  delay  by  Governor  Barnard  "  to  General 
Amherst,  commander  of  his  Majesty's  forces  in 
Nova  Scotia.'7  But  the  Bostonians  took  especial 
care  to  show  the  transports  out  of  the  harbor,  and 
have  them  reach  Halifax  again  before  another  order 
could  reach  them. 

No  doubt  there  would  have  been  trouble  about 
this  between  their  high  mightinesses  of  the  two 
provinces,  had  it  not  so  chanced  that  by  the  time 
the  poor  Acadians  reached  Nova  Scotia  again,  the 
French  forces  had  quit  the  country,  after  doing  all 
the  mischief  they  could  at  the  time,  namely :  they 
captured  two  English  settlements  at  Newfoundland, 
which  they  razed  to  the  ground  ;  they  captured  the 
town  of  St.  Johns,  carrying  off  a  company  of  sol 
diers  prisoners  of  war,  "  with  the  officers  and  crew 
of  his  Majesty's  ship  Gramont." 

On  the  tenth  of  the  February  following,  1762, 
another  peace  was  patched  up  between  the  French 

*  Subsequently,  this  debt  \ras  paid. 


233 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 


and  English,  by  which  the  French  monarch  re 
nounced  and  guaranteed  all  his  possessions  in  North 
America  to  the  English.  This  proved  the  death  of 
hope  to  the  forlorn  Acadians,  and  set  the  seal  to 
their  fate  forever  ! 


END    OF    VOLUME    ONE. 


Amusements  of  the  Acadians. 


THE 


NEUTRAL    FRENCH; 


OR, 


THE  EXILES  OF  NOVA   SCOTIA 


BY  MBS.  WILLIAMS, 

Author  of  "  Religion  at  Home,"  "  Aristocracy,"  "  National  and  Revolutionary 
Tales,"   "  Biography  of  Barton  and  Oiney,"  &c,  &c. 


Lo !  Tyranny  L-trides  on  with  step  accurst, 
Trampling  her  million  victims  in  the  dust ! 
Rut  Gud,  the  mighty  God,  shall  hear  their  cries, 
And  bid  the  Star  of  Liberty  arise  !  —  Eu. 


Where  Liberty  dwells,  thero  is  my  county- !  " 

TWO  VOLUMES  IN  ONE. 
VOLUME    II. 


PROVIDENCE: 
PUBLISHED   BY   THE   AUTHOR 


[Copy-right  secured,  according  to  law/ 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  hour 

"  Long  wished  for  by  the  good, 
Of  universal  jubilee  to  all 
The  sons  of  bondage. 
Old  men,  that  on  their  staff  had  leaned, 
Crazy  and  frail,  or  sat  benumbed  with  age, 
Ripe  for  the  grave,  felt  through  their  withered  limbs 
New  vigor  flow." 

TWENTY  years  had  elapsed  since,  at  the  command 
of  a  "  despotic  prince  and  infatuated  ministry,"  a 
peace-seeking  and  peace-loving  people,  who  might 
have  been  considered  an  acquisition  to  any  country, 
were  driven  out  from  their  happy  homes  and  scat 
tered  among  strangers,  doomed  to  eat  their  bread 
by  the  sweat  of  the  brow  among  a  people  whose 
manners,  language,  and  laws,  they  were  utter  stran 
gers  to.  As  strangers  and  wanderers  on  the  earth, 
they  had  been  treading  their  weary  pilgrimage. 
The  greater  part  had  perished.  They  had  fallen 
as  grass  beneath  the  mower's  scythe.  And  of  those 
who  remained,  they  were,  for  the  most  ;:part,  as 
martyrs  looking  for  the  hour  of  their  dismissal. 
For  them,  the  summer  had  smiled  in  vain — "  the 
voice  of  the  turtle  "  and  the  "  singing  of  birds " 
had  ceased  to  charm.  In  vain  for  them,  autumn 
yielded  up  her  bountiful  stores,  and  landscapes  more 
21 


4  THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH. 

beautiful  than  the  cold  regions  of  the  east,  presented 
themselves  on  every  side,  and  courted  their  unthank 
ful  and  almost  undistinguishing  observation.  For 
the  most  part,  they  had  exchanged  the  quiet  for  the 
bustle  of  life,  but  they  regarded  it  not.  The  crowd 
passed  on,  often  jostling  them  out  of  the  way,  but 
they  felt  it  not — one  soul-absorbing  thought  pos 
sessed  them  all — they  were  exiles  from  their  coun 
try.  They  had  lost  their  name  and  their  inherit 
ance,  and  had  lost  it,  as  they  now  believed,  foolishly. 
Oh,  what  would  they  now  have  given,  could  the 
"  tide  of  time ''"  roll  back,  and  place  them  once 
more  in  their  country,  with  arms  in  their  hands  ; 
even  without,  it  was  worth  the  peril.  Had'  they 
resisted,  the  ruthless  conqueror  might  have  been 
foiled  ;  had  they  failed,  they  could  at  least  have 
died  in  the 'contest,  have  bravely  died,  have  fallen 
like  men,  and  won  a  deathless  immortality.  The 
thought  was  agony. 

Often,  when  the  sympathies  of  the  people  they 
were  among  had  won  them  to  their  firesides,  would 
they  recount  the  horrors  of  that  day  when  they 
were  compelled,  with  their  wives  and  little  ones, 
to  quit  their  beloved  homes,  their  rural  dwellings, 
and  fruitful  fields,  their  well-filled  barns,  countless 
herds  and  flocks  of  sheep,  a  prey  to  the  spoiler,  and 
embark  upon  a  tempestuous  sea.  for  an  unknown 
land  ;  lighted  from  the  shore  by  the  blaze  of  their 
dwellings,  and  separated  from  each  other  on  their 
perilous  voyage  ;  and  often  would  the  ready  tears 
of  the  listeners  attest  the  pitying  feelings  the  sad 
narration  had  called  forth.  There  were  few,  how 
ever,  but  would  insist  they  would  not  have  yielded 
without  a  struggle.  "  They  should  have  trampled 
on  our  bodies,  they  should  have  waded  knee  deep 
in  our  blood,  before  we  would  have  submitted  to 
such  an  arbitrary  edict,"  was  often  the  expression 
of  the  incensed  Americans,  at  the  conclusion  of 
their  story. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  5 

It  was  on  one  of  these  occasions,  that  a  venera 
ble  Acadian  made  the  remark  that  Byron,  in  later 
times,  has  rendered  immortal,  namely,  "  The  cold 
in  clime  are  cold  in  blood."  Said  he,  "  We  lived 
too  far  north  ;  the  blood  of  our  French  forefathers 
had  crept  through  so  many  generations  in  that  freez 
ing  clime,  that  it  became  chilled ;  it  had  began  to 
stiffen.  It  must  have  been  so  ;  it  must,  indeed  ; 
there  is  no  other  way  of  accounting  for  it." 

From  this  state  of  despondence,  of  long  despair, 
or  of  sullen  apathy,  the  Neutral  French  (neutral  no 
longer)  were  at  length  aroused.  The  commence 
ment  of  hostilities  between  the  United  States  and 
the  mother  country,  the  government  of  Great  Brit 
ain,  came  upon  them  like  an  earthquake  ;  it  was 
astounding,  and  caused  every  chord  within  them  to 
vibrate.  It  was  like  the  dawning  of  the  resurrec 
tion  morning  to  the  long-imprisoned  spirits  of  the 
just.  Every  head  was  erect ;  there  was  a  new 
dignity  and  elasticity  in  their  steps,  that  evidently 
proclaimed  each  felt  himself  a  man  again.  The 
idea  of  the  colonies  resisting  the  arbitrary  mandates 
of  Great  Britain,  was  something  that  never  entered 
their  heads  ;  they  knew  there  was  discontent  and 
remonstrance  on  the  part  of  the  Americans  ;  but 
what  of  that  ?  They  had  felt  it  all,  and  much 
more,  and  petitioned  for  redress  for  fifty  years, 
without  any  answer,  except  increased  burdens  be 
ing  laid  upon  them,  until  they  had  given  it  up,  and 
sat  down  submissive  under  the  iron  yoke  ;  and  they 
fully  believed  it  would  be  the  case  of  the  Ameri 
cans  ;  it  was  not  until  the  first  blood  had  been 
shed  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  and  the  States  were 
calling  upon  the  citizens  to  arm,  that  they  at  all 
comprehended  the  case  ;  when  they  did,  their  joy 
was  boundless.  Even  their  women  rushed  from 
house  to  house,  aghast,  to  tell  the  news  ;  and  the 
information  was  uniformly  answered  by  that  neigh- 


6  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

bor  throwing  herself  upon  the  bosom  of  her  inform 
er,  to  sob  out  her  thanksgivings,  while  the  old  men 
would  kiss  each  other  on  both  cheeks,  in  ecstasies 
of  joy. 

"  Grand  business,  this,"  said  old  Captain  Cum- 
mings,  who  had  breasted  the  storms  of  a  great  many 
voyages  since  he  helped  bring  the  Neutral  French 
from  Nova  Scotia.  "  Beautiful  business,  Mr.  Liv 
ingston,  bringing  these  here  French  to  help  us,  ha! 
ha !  ha  !  Our  masters  were  afraid  to  let  them  go  to 
Canada,  for  fear  they  would  strengthen  the  French 
under  Villabon  ;  but  a  greater  than  Villabon  is  here, 
I  reckon ;  they  will  wish  they  had  left  them 
where  they  belonged,  instead  of  scattering  them 
here  ;  the  poor,  innocent  people  would  not  have 
harmed  them.  But,  tread  on  a  worm,  and  it  will 
turn.  I  miss  my  guess,  if  they  keep  still  now." 

"  Why,  do  you  think  any  of  the  younger  ones 
remember  much  about  it  ? "  replied  the  gentleman 
addressed,  to  the  good  old  captain,  now  some v  hat 
advanced  in  years,  who  stood  leaning  on  his  staff, 
which  he  now  never  walked  without. 

"  Remember,  why,  yes,  there  is  my  son-in-law 
St.  Pierre,  who  was  only  thirteen  when  I  brought 
him  away,  he  and  his  brother  have  as  vivid  a  recol 
lection  of  the  whole  scene  as  though  it  had  been 
yesterday,  or  as  though  they  had  been  blindfolded 
ever  since,  and  seen  nothing  since.  I  tell  you  now, 
Mr.  Livingston,  that  was  a  bad  business  ;  great  as 
we  think  our  grievances,  they  are  nothing  to  what 
these  poor  people  endured,  even  before  their  trans 
portation  ;  if  I  had  known  the  truth  of  it  then, 
you'd  have  never  caught  Sam  Cummings  in  that 
scrape.  God  forgive  me  ;  for,  like  those  who  helped 
crucify  their  master,  I  knew  not  what  I  did,  at  the- 
time." 

"  It  was  a  melancholy  business,  in  truth,"  re 
plied  the  gentleman  ;  "  and  it  is  perfectly  astonish- 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  7 

ing  that  the  injustice  did  not  strike  the  people  of 
these  colonies  at  the  time." 

"  Melancholy,  indeed  !  Had  you  s^een  them  as  I 
did,  and  witnessed  the  distress  of  that  poor  people, 
when  compelled  to  see  their  dwellings  given  to  the 
flames,  and  their  dumb  creatures,  whom  they  loved 
next  to  themselves,  left  to  perish  of  starvation  ; 
themselves  reduced  in  one  day  to  the  situation  of 
of  paupers,  from  a  state  of  plenty  and  even  afflu 
ence  ;  and  their  husbands  and  wives,  parents  and 
children,  separated  and  put  into  different  vessels/' 

"  For  what,  pray  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Livingston. 

"  Why,  to  serve  the  devil,  I  suppose  :  for  I  never 
could  divine  any  earthly  motive  for  such  needless 
cruelty  ;  and  so  blinded  and  deceived  as  most  of  us 
were,  that  went  to  bring  them  away,  why,  I  tell 
you  truly,  that  all  Sam  Cummin gs  was  ever  worth, 
would  have  been  no  temptation  to  engage  in  such 
an  undertaking,  had  I  known  the  truth.  We  were 
told  they  were  the  greatest  set  of  white  savages 
that  ever  existed,  and  that  they  set  the  Indians  on 
to  cut  the  throats  of  helpless  women  and  children, 
and  offered  sacrifice  to  their  images  and  dead  saints, 
with  a  hundred  other  things,  quite  as  ridiculous, 
and,  as  I  believe,  untrue.  You  can  witness  with 
me,  dear  Sir,  that  a  more  peaceable,  harmless,  and 
even  pious  set  of  persons,  never  existed,  than  those 
who  came  here,  and  they  are  all  alike  in  that ;  not 
that  they  have  been  happy  ;  the  poor  souls  think 
now,  that  they  mistook  their  duty,  and  that  they 
should  have  defended  their  hearths  at  the  point  of 
the  bayonet,  though  in  truth  to  say,  I  don't  know 
where  they  would  have  got  bayonets,  as  their  arms 
had  all  been  taken  away,  long  before  ;  but,  at  all 
events,  if  they  had  been  taken  fighting,  they  think 
they  would  have  fared  like  prisoners  of  war.  In 
this  opinion  I  think  they  are  mistaken ;  as  such  was 
the  temper  of  their  oppressors,  I  think  they  would 
21* 


8  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

have  seized  that  as  a  pretext  to  exterminate  them, 
and  hanged  the  whole  lot." 

"  Why,  surely,"  said  Mr.  Robert  Livington,  for 
it  was  him  who  afterwards  sat  his  seal  to  the  Dec 
laration  of  Independence,  that  honest  Sam  had  now 
the  privilege  of  addressing  ;  "  why,  surely,  you  do 
not  think  they  would  have  hung  eighteen  thousand 
people,  or,  as  some  say,  twenty  thousand,  men, 
women,  and  children  ? " 

"  Why,  I  don't  think  they  would  have  catched 
them  all.  they  did  not,  as  it  was,  several  thousand 
eluded  them  •  and,  may  be,  had  they  fought  brave 
ly,  none  of  them  would  have  been  taken.  The 
time  for  resistance,  in  my  opinion,  was  when  they 
were  commanded  to  give  up  their  arms.  What 
right  had  they  to  take  from  a  man  the  privilege  of 
defending  his  own  fireside.  No  people  ought  to 
submit  to  be  disarmed.  And  if  the  worst  come  of 
it,  they  could  but  have  died  ;  arid  the  misery  and 
degradation  they  have  endured  since,  is  much  worse 
than  death.  We  can  only  see  by  this,  Mr.  Living 
ston,  what  our  own  case  would  be,  were  we  to  sit 
down  patient  under  British  exactions."  ) 

"  Thou  art  right,  thou  art"  right,"  said  Mr.  Liv 
ingston,  shaking  him  warmly  by  the  hand  ;  "  and, 
my  honest  friend,  while  we  are  giving  a  blow  for 
freedom,  I  hope  we  may  lay  on  a  few  in  remem 
brance  of  the  injuries  of  this  much  abused  people. 
Surely,  the  Almighty  cannot  forever  forsake  them  ; 
he  must  arise  at  length  and  avenge  then*  cause." 

But  if  the  shock  of  the  coming  contest  was  felt 
by  the  whole  civilized  continent,  from  Maine  to 
Georgia,  let  us  imagine  what  were  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  of  the  red  man.  The  very  first  blast  of 
the  war  clarion  that  echoed  through  the  forest, 
awoke  the  startled  savage  from  a  long  slumber  of 
apathy,  a  state  of  almost  inanition ;  and,  springing 
to  his  feet,  with  his  whole  fierce  soul  looking  out 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  9 

cit  his  eyes,  he  seized  the  bow  and  the  arrow,  the 
tomahawk  and  scalping-knife,  and  buckling  on  the 
war-belt,  he  prepared  himself  to  fight  for  the  high 
est  bidder.  The  life  of  the  Indian,  when  not  ex 
cited  by  anger,  revenge,  or  the  hope  of  plunder, 
approaches  the  nearest  to  annihilation  of  any  thing 
ever  seen  in  our  world.  To  smoke  in  a  corner  of 
his  wigwam,  or  lay  against  the  trees  basking  in  a 
summer  sun,  with  half-shut  eyes,  while  his  bosom 
slave  is  pounding  out  the  corn,  or  jerking  the  veni 
son,  is  his  principal  employment.  But  let  one  of 
the  three  incentives  just  mentioned,  be  presented 
to  his  view,  and  the  most  wonderful  transformation 
is  visible  at  once  :  his  person  rises  to  at  least  a  foot 
in  height  ;  his  eyes  become  of  the  color  of  an  Eng 
lish  rabbit's,  and  glow  with  a  look  so  hideous  as  to 
make  the  blood  of  the  beholder  curdle  within  him  ; 
while  every  sinew  and  muscle  in  his  frame  becomes 
now  braced  and  rigid. 

There  was  a  lingering  respect  for  the  French, 
that  would  have  preserved  the  savage  from  a  parti 
cipation  in  the  butcheries  or  plunders  of  the  British, 
had  the  contest  been  between  the  two  nations  ;  but 
between  Englishmen  and  Englishmen,  they  could 
not  believe  there  could  be  much  choice,  and  there 
fore  readily  yielded,  for  the  most  part,  to  join  with 
those  whom  they  believed  capable  of  rewarding 
them  the  best ;  and  the  English,  who  had  expressed 
such  a  holy  horror  of  employing  the  savages  in 
war,  did  not  hesitate  to  employ  them  now  that  their 
enemies  were  to  be  the  victims. 


10  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  Wake,  dear  remembrance,  wake  my  childhood's  days, 
Loves,  friendships,  wake  !  and  wake  thou  morn  and  even, 
And  hills  and  vales  first  trod  in  dawning  life, 
And  holy  hours  of  musing,  wake !  wake  !  wake  ! " 

THE  commencement  of  the  revolutionary  war 
found  the  family  of  our  exiles  in  a  very  different 
situation  from  that  in  which  we  left  them.  Ferdi 
nand  had  turned  his  talents  into  a  diiferent  channel. 
He  had  began  a  trader,  and  in  a  few  years  became 
one  of  the  most  successful  merchants  in  Boston. 
Many  of  their  first  friends  were  dead  ;  Mrs.  Mont 
gomery,  Mrs.  Courtland,  and  others,  who  had  so 
warmly  patronized  Pauline,  had  now  paid  the  debt 
of  nature  ;  but  the  rich  find  no  difficulty  in  collect 
ing  an  agreeable  circle  around  them.  Among  these, 
the  origin  of  this  family  was  but  little  known. 
People  had  somehow  confounded  the  Neutral  French 
with  the  French  Huguenots,  many  of  whom  had 
sought  shelter  from  Catholic  persecution  in  the 
provinces,  and  an  exceedingly  amiable  and  exem 
plary  people  they  were  said  to  be.  There  seemed 
to  be  a  determination  to  forget  the  banished  Aca- 
dians,  as  well  there  might,  since  it  reflected  little 
honor  upon  those  who  projected  or  assisted  in  the 
execution  of  it.  But  it  was  not  so  with  the  Hugue 
nots,  who,  being  protestants,  and  coming  into  the 
country  of  their  own  free  will,  were  here,  as  well 
as  in  England,  exceedingly  popular.  And  when 
the  question  was  asked,  as  it  often  was,  "  Are  they 
not  of  French  extract  ?"  the  answer  usually  was, 
"  Ohj  yes  ;  they  are  probably  descendants  of  some 
of  the  Huguenots."  Whether  it  was  the  belief  of 
such  extract,  or  from  whatever  cause,  the  inhabi 
tants  of  Boston,  as  far  as  their  acquaintance  had 
extended,  had  always  treated  the  family  of  Ferdi 
nand  with  marked  attention. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FREx\CH.  11 

Ferdinand  had  arisen,  by  rapid  strides,  from  a 
state  of  poverty  to  be  a  man  of  wealth,  and  he  had 
been  treated  with  much  respect  by  the  people  he 
was  among,  even  during  his  state  of  poverty  ;  hence 
his  feelings  towards  the  Bostonians  were  of  the 
most  pleasureable  and  grateful  kind,  and  in  the 
hour  of  their  country's  adversity  he  did  not  forget 
it.  That  he  was  a  man  of  great  merit,  and  worthy 
of  his  prosperity,  was  obvious,  for  he  never  forgot 
the  low  estate  he  was  in  upon  his  first  coming 
there  ;  and  his  manners  towards  those  whom  heav 
en  had  made  his  inferiors  in  point  of  property,  were 
of  the  most  gentle  and  conciliating  kind,  and  es 
pecially  towards  his  distressed  countrymen,  whom 
he  frequently  looked  up,  to  relieve  their  necessities. 
Fifteen  years  before  the  present  era  of  our  story, 
we  left  him  in  a  small  house  in  Charlestown,  in  the 
capacity  of  a  schoolmaster,  a  teacher  of  the  French 
language.  Very  soon  after,  he  became  weary  of 
his  employment,  and  removed  to  the  other  side  to 
engage  in  trade.  As  we  observed  before,  he  was 
eminently  successful  in  his  new  occupation,  and 
soon  realized  a  fortune  for  those  days. 

At  the  era  of  the  Revolution,  Ferdinand  resided 
in  a  beautiful  mansion  in  one  of  the  most  fash 
ionable  streets  in  Boston.  It  was  situated  on  one 
of  those  abrupt  eminences  so  peculiar  to  that  place, 
and  which  contributes  more,  perhaps,  than  any 
thing  else,  to  give  it  that  peculiarly  romantic  and 
picturesque  appearance  that  all  strangers  admire. 
Modern  innovation  has  levelled  many  of  those  emi 
nences  at  this  day,  but  some  few  remain,  particu 
larly  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  State  House.  The 
lofty  flight  of  steps  that  led  to  the  spacious  entrance 
was  guarded  by  a  balustrade  of  wrought  iron,  and 
over  the  door  was  exhibited  what  in  these  days 
would  excite  the  risible  faculties  of  every  passer  by 
in  our  republican  country,  but  was  then  considered 


12  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

a  necessary  appendage  to  a  gentleman's  family  man 
sion,  a  coat  of  arms.  It  had  been  left  there  by 
Ferdinand's  predecessor,  who,  finding  ;n  the  new 
world  but  little  that  he  thought  equal  to  himself, 
and  finding  he  could  not  live  out  of  the  air  of  a 
court,  had  disposed  of  his  stately  mansion,  and  gone 
home  to  "  dear  England." 

On  each  side  the  hall,  that  extended  quite  thro  ugh 
the  building,  was  a  set  of  rooms  splendidly  furnish 
ed,  between  the  doors  of  which  hung  a  set  of  land 
scapes,  principally  of  rural  scenery,  but  of  what 
country  the  obsererver  would  have  been  puzzled  to 
say.  The  cottages,  in  their  architecture,  were  de 
cidedly  French  ;  but  as  this  was  a  style  of  building 
entirely  unknown  in  the  province  of  Massachusetts 
Bay,  it  was  not  recognised  as  such  ;  the  grounds 
were  laid  out  much  in  English  style,  but  it  was  not 
"  England's  fadeless  green,"  nor  were  the  hills 
those  of  "  vine-clad  France."  Herds  of  cattle  were 
seen  quietly  browsing  in  the  deep  intervales  below, 
and  flocks  of  sheep  were  sporting  on  the  craggy 
hills,  while  youths  and  maidens  might  be  seen 
dancing  on  the  lawn,  or  resting  beneath  the  shade 
of  overhanging  trees.  The  next  represented  the 
sportsman  with  his  gun,  and  the  dogged  Indian 
stealing  warily  through  the  forest. 

But  chiefly  would  the  observer  have  been  attract 
ed  by  one  which  represented  a  mournful  procession 
of  youths  and  maidens,  a  part  of  whom  had  gained 
the  shore,  near  which  lay  a  number  of  ships  appa 
rently  just  ready  to  slip  their  cables.  These  last 
appeared  listening  to  the  speech  of  an  aged  man, 
who  was  in  the  act  of  elevating  a  cross,  which  a 
soldier  at  his  back  was  springing,  with  upraised 
hatchet,  to  strike  down.  The  countenances  of  the 
group  were  inimitable  ;  the  struggle  for  resignation, 
the  suppressed  murmur,  the  hushed  agony  of  the 


• 

THE    KEUTRAL    FRENCH.  13 

husband,  and  the  shrinking,  fainting  form  of  the 
wife,  all  spoke  volumes  to  the  heart. 

The  last  was  partly  a  sea-scene  :  the  waters  were 
dreadfully  agitated,  and  the  angry  clouds  appeared 
rushing  on  as  driven  by  a  furious  wind.  Ships,  on 
whose  decks  might  be  discovered  a  sea  of  human 
faces,  were  dashing  through  the  foaming  billows. 
It  was  night,  but  the  whole  scene  was  rendered 
horribly  distinct  by  the  glare  of  a  conflagration  on 
shore,  where  hundreds  of  buildings  were  wrapt  in 
flames  at  once.  You  could  almost  descry  the  pale 
faces  and  anguished  looks  of  the  groups  on  board, 
many  of  them  females,  whose  arms  were  stretched 
out  towards  the  scene  of  ruin,  and  who  apparently 
were  only  restrained  from  throwing  themselves  into 
the  sea  by  being  forcibly  withheld. 

About  these  paintings,  there  was  a  kind  of  mys 
tery.  Some  said  the  "  last  represented  the  burning 
of  Troy  ;  "  and  many  averred  one  of  them  "  must 
be  a  view  ot  the  crusaders  about  to  embark  for  the 
holy  land,"  and  puzzled  themselves  in  vain  to  dis 
tinguish  the  armor  and  badges  of  the  different 
chieftains.  But  whatever  they  represented,  the 
present  occupants  were  observed  to  be  profoundly 
silent. 

In  one  of  the  back  parlors  of  the  mansion,  re 
clined  on  a  sofa,  sat  a  woman  whose  bust  exhibited 
a  perfection  of  form  that  rarely  belongs  to  the 
nation  which,  from  the  color  of  her  eyes  and  hair, 
and  the  dazzling  whiteness  of  her  skin,  one  might 
have  supposed  her  descended  ;  in  plain  words,  her 
complexion  was  English,  but  the  form  French. 
The  soft  blue  eyes  were  now  cast  down,  and  hu 
mid  with  tears,  and  the  luxuriant  brown  hair  floated 
in  disorder  over  the  fair  shoulders  that  just  peeped 
from  beneath  the  gauze  'kerchief.  But  beautiful 
and  youthful  as  the  person  of  the  female  here  spo 
ken  of  appeared,  she  was  in  reality  upwards  of 


14  THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH. 

thirty  years  of  age.  Her  spirits,  naturally  light  and 
buoyant,  had  sustained  the  trials  of  life,  without 
impairing  her  beauty.  Of  sorrow,  she  had  tasted 
but  once.  After  years  had  been  spent  in  indul 
gence  ;  every  wish  of  her  heart  had  been  gratified 
by  a  devoted  husband  and  most  affectionate  mother. 
Prosperity  had  flowed  in  upon  them,  and  wealth, 
almost  unsought,  seemed  to  court  their  acceptance : 
and  could  the  memory  of  early  years,  of  a  one 
sorrow,  have  been  entirely  obliterated,  it  seemed,  to 
human  view,  she  might  have  been  superlatively 
happy. 

The  remembrance  of  that  sorrow,  however,  had 
grown  fainter  and  fainter,  and  would  probably  have 
been  only  as  the  recollection  of  a  painful  dream, 
had  not  circumstances  from  time  to  time  arisen 
which  called  it  up.  The  present  was  one,  and 
Josephine — for  it  was  the  youngest  daughter  of  the 
St.  Pierre  family — had  on  this  day  been  painfully 
reminded  of  past  events  by  a  dangerous  accession 
to  her  family  in  the  person  of  a  disguised  priest  of 
their  order,  who  had  been  seeking  out  the  strag 
glers  of  his  flock  for  the  laudable  and  holy  purpose 
of  strengthening  their  faith,  and  ministering  to  their 
spiritual  necessities.  Josephine  knew  that  the  vi 
cinity  of  this  person,  were  his  real  character  known, 
would  at  once  alter  the  conduct  of  the  party  who 
now  held  the  town,  towards  herself  and  family  ; 
for  hitherto  they  had  been  regarded  with  a  degree 
of  favor  truly  surprising,  considering  the  many  pri 
vations  others  had  to  endure.  But,  aware  of  all 
this,  she  -had  received  the  venerable  and  houseless 
stranger  when  others  dared  not ;  and,  risking  all 
the  consequences  should  his  character  and  mission 
be  discovered,  resolutely  resolved,  come  what  might, 
to  extend  to  him  all  the  kindness  and  assistance  his 
situation  so  imploringly  called  for. 

While  ruminating  over  the  consequences  to  her 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  15 

husband,  should  it  transpire,  a  tear  involuntarily 
forced  itself  down  her  cheek,  and  she  was  aroused 
from  her  painful  revery  by  the  entrance  of  her 
mother,  who,  gently  laying  her  hand  on  her  arm, 
reminded  her  of  other  duties  than  indulging  such 
anticipations. 

The  face  and  person  of  Madam  St.  Pierre  had 
undergone  some  changes,  she  was  upwards  of  sixty  ; 
but  there  was  still  a  dignity  of  manner  that  bespoke 
innate  purity  and  rectitude  of  soul,  but  partook  not 
of  pride.  She  was  yet  a  mourner  ;  for  the  fate  of 
a  beloved  husband  was  as  yet  involved  in  mystery, 
and  she  could  not  forget  the  woes  of  her  family  and 
people.  Added  to  this,  she  had  three  sons  who 
were  now  in  the  army,  having  been  some  of  the 
first  who  volunteered  to  take  part  with  the  indig 
nant  and  oppressed  Americans,  and  she  knew  the 
day  was  not  very  far  distant  when  Ferdinand,  the 
husband  of  her  darling  Josephine,  would  also  join 
their  forces,  though  of  that  apprehension  her  daugh 
ter  was  yet  ignorant. 

Taking  the  arm  of  her  mother,  Josephine  now 
ascended  to  a  remote  chamber  of  the  mansion, 
where,  stretched  upon  a  bed,  lay  the  emaciated 
form  of  the  venerable  priest.  It  was  evident  that 
toil,  anxiety,  and  privations,  had  done  their  work 
upon  the  constitution  of  Father  Joseph,  on  whose 
exhausted  frame  the  hand  of  death  appeared  now 
already  laid. 

"  Come  hither,  my  daughter,"  said  the  expiring 
saint.  "  My  glass  is  nearly  run,  and  1  bless  God  I 
shall  not  live  long  enough  to  ruin  my  benefactors 
for  harboring  me." 

"  Of  that  I  have  no  fears,"  said  Josephine.  "  My 
greatest  anxiety,  holy  father,  is  now  to  make  you 
comfortable,  and  be  able  to  protect  you  until  our 
enemies  leave  the  city  ;  if  report  says  true,  it  will 
not  be  long  first.  There  seems  a  special  providence 
22 


16  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

in  it,  that,  though  a  number  of  British  officers  are 
quartered  in  my  house,  your  residence  has  not,  as 
yet,  been  suspected.  But,  father,  you  are  failing  ; 
what  can  I  do  ?  shall  I  bring  the  breviary  and  cru 
cifix?" 

A  cloud  came  over  the  brow  of  the  dying  man  ; 
it  was  transient,  and  succeeded  by  a  heavenly  smile, 
while  he  replied,  "  No,  daughter,  I  need  them  not. 
It  is  not  in  such  situations  as  I  have  been  for  the 
last  twenty  years,  that  the  need  of  such  things  arc 
felt.  And  now,  daughter,  draw  near,  I  am  about 
to  address  you  on  a  most  important  subject.  Of 
my  tedious  pilgrimage  through  deep  and  untrodden 
wilds,  of  my  travail  of  soul,  and  long-enduring  sor 
row  on  account  of  your  and  my  dear  people,  I  have 
not  time  or  breath  to  inform  you  ;  but  during  this 
season  I  have  had  time  and  opportunity  to  study 
the  scriptures  of  truth  for  myself.  This  little  vol 
ume  (taking  a  small  French  bible  from  beneath  his- 
pillow)  has  been  my  companion  by  night  and  by 
day,  and  to  you  I  now  bequeath  it,  with  the  injunc 
tion  to  read  and  ponder  its  contents." 

Josephine  took  it,  wondering. 

"  You  will  see  by  this,  my  daughter,  that  we  are 
all  invited  to  come  direct  to  Jesus,  the  mediator  of 
the  new  covenant,  and  need  not  the  intervention  of 
saints  or  angels,  of  the  spirits  of  just  men,  pr  even 
of  the  blessed  Virgin  herself,  whose  sins,  as  well  as 
ours,  can  only  be  pardoned  through  the  atonement 
of  him  who  was  her  son  according  to  the  flesh.  I 
am  not  derogating  from  the  merit  of  her  whose 
faith  and  humility  are  a  pattern  for  all  believers.  It 
is  written  she  shall  be  called  blessed  of  all  nations. 
But  could  that  blessed  person,  who,  with  the  depart 
ed  spirits  of  the  just,  are  now  reaping  the  reward 
of  their  faith,  be  permitted  to  speak  to  us,  I  think 
they  would  say,  pointing  to  the  Saviour,  '  Behold 
the  Lamb  of  God,  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 


THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH.  17 

world  ;  worship  thou  him.'  I  believe  and  desire  to 
give  my  dying  testimony,  that  the  Catholic  church 
is  a  true  church  of  Christ,  as  far  as  being  built  upon 
the  foundation  of  the  prophets  and  apostles ;  but  I 
do  feel  she  has  diverged  from  the  path  she  origin 
ally  set  out  upon,  and  encumbered  herself  with 
many  useless  ceremonies,  to  the  great  hindrance  of 
believers,  and  corrupted,  by  false  interpretation, 
some  of  the  plainest  and  most  obvious  doctrines  of 
the  gospel.  A  long  season  of  uninterrupted  power 
and  prosperity  is  as  unfavorable  to  the  spiritual  ad 
vancement  of  the  church,  as  it  is  to  the  growth  of 
grace  in  individuals.  But  her  days  of  darkness  have 
been  many,  and  may  he  who  causeth  the  light  to 
spring  out  of  darkness,  grant  it  may  be  a  season  not 
only  of  humiliation,  but  purification,  and  that  she 
may  come  out  as  gold  from  the  furnace,  with  all  her 
dross  purged  away." 

"  But,  father,"  said  Josephine,  rather  impatiently, 
as  she  saw  by  the  failing  breath  that  her  reverend 
guest  was  fast  travelling  home,  "  will  you  not  con 
fess  me  once  before  you  die,  and  give  me  absolu 
tion  ?  " 

"  Daughter !  "  said  the  man  of  God,  raising  him 
self  upon  the  pillow,  and  gazing  into  her  face  with 
almost  startling  energy,  "  what  have  I  been  saying 
to  you  ?  Who  am  I,  that  I  should  forgive  sin  ?  I 
can  only  declare  unto  you,  as  an  ambassador  of  the 
most  high  God,  that  your  sins,  if  you  are  truly 
penitent,  are  forgiven  you  by  him,  who  in  his  own 
person  made  atonement  for  them;  and  whoever 
claims  more  than  this,  arrogates  to  himself  what 
belongs  to  God  only.  Yet  I  bless  you,  my  child, 
(laying  his  emaciated  hand  upon  her  head  as  he 
sunk  back,  exhausted,  on  the  pillow.)  The  bless 
ing  of  him  who  was  ready  to  perish,  rest  upon 
thee  ;  the  stranger's  God  protect  thee  !  For  I  was 
an  hungered,  and  you  gave  me  meat ;  thirsty,  and 


18  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

you  gave  me  drink;  a  stranger,  and  you  took  me 
in  ;  sick  and  in  affliction,  and  you  ministered  unto 
me ;  and  in  the  day  when  God  shall  judge  the 
secrets  of  men  by  Jesus  Christ,  he  will  remember 
these  things  as  done  unto  himself.  Now  leave  me 
for  a  little  time." 

Drawing  the  curtain,  Josephine  and  Madam  St. 
Pierre  retreated  to  the  antechamber  to  meditate  on 
the  momentous  subjects  just  brought  to  their  view, 
while  their  exhausted  guest  recovered  a  little  from 
the  state  of  agitation  into  which  his  great  exertions 
had  thrown  him. 

Scarcely  half  an  hour  had  elapsed,  when  a  ser 
vant,  in  passing  the  door,  looked  in,  and  with  his 
finger  on  his  lips,  handed  her  hastily  a  sealed  paquet, 
which,  after  securing  the  door,  she  broke  open,  and 
read  as  follows  : 

"  DEAREST  WIFE — Be  not  alarmed  at  my  long 
absence.  When  this  reaches  you,  I  shall  have  do- 
parted  on  a  mission,  of  the  nature  of  which  I  can 
not  now  acquaint  you.  The  ostensible  object  of 
my  journey  is  to  protect  the  wife  of  our  brother  on 
her  journey  home,  as  the  country  is  filled  with 
rebel  troops.  Be  not  alarmed  for  yourself;  there 
are  those  in  the  city  who  have  sworn  to  protect 
you  at  all  hazards.  In  the  mean  time,  if  you  see 
any  cause  for  it,  the  means  of  escape  will  be  pro 
vided  you,  and  you  can  throw  yourself  upon  the 
protection  of  the  commander-in-chief  at  Roxbury, 
who  will  receive  and  protect  you.  Believe  me, 
nothing  but  a  sense  of  duty  drives  me  from  you  at 
this  perilous  time.  Where  I  am  going,  I  will  not 
say,  but  I  shall  see  our  dear  sister  Pauline,  that  first 
and  best  of  women.  (I  know  no  feeling  of  jealousy 
ever  visited  that  gentle  bosom.)  Feel  assured  she 
will  approve  my  flight,  if  such  you  choose  to  call 
it,  The  very  efficient  aid  I  was  enabled  to  give 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  19 

certain  suffering  patriots  in  Boston,  could  not,  I  fear, 
remain  a  secret  much  longer  ;  nor  could  my  long- 
slumbering  resentment  of  our  tyrannical  and  heart 
less  oppressors.  Under  these  circumstances,  you 
must  believe  it  best  for  me  to  absent  myself.  I 
know  you  would  prefer  it  to  my  being  sent  prisoner 
to  England  or  Halifax.  I  trust  our  separation  will 
not  be  long.  Yours,  ever, 

"  F 

J-  *• 

"  Destroy  this  immediately." 

Scarcely  had  the  trembling,  agitated  wife  time 
to  crush  the  letter  into  her  bosom,  ere  she  was  sum 
moned  to  the  chamber  of  her  guest  again.  Though 
Father  Joseph  was  evidently  dying,  Josephine  could 
not  forbear  to  mention  her  new  affliction  to  him, 
and  solicit  his  advice  respecting  her  flight  from  the 
city. 

"  Remain  here,"  said  he,  emphatically.  "  This 
is  your  post  ;'your  trial  will  not  be  long,  and  God 
will  protect  you.  In  after  years,  when  peace,  lib 
erty,  and  prosperity  shall  have  visited  this  land, 
remember  rrte !  " 

"  Oh,  Father  !  "  said  Josephine,  throwing  herself 
on  her  knees  beside  the  bed,  "  can  I  ever  forget  you  ? 
But  do  you  indeed  believe  we  shall  be  free  ;  that 
we  ever  shall  dwell  in  a  land  where  British  tyranny 
cannot  reach  us  ?  " 

"  I  do  believe  it,"  said  the  dying  priest,  with 
fervency.  "  Have  faith,  my  child.  Hast  thou  wit 
nessed  the  battle  on  yonder  hill,  and  dost  thou 
doubt  yet  ?  I  have  been  thinking,"  he  added, 
u  that  in  this  land  the  church  may  accomplish  her 
purification.  Existing  without  the  unlimited  power 
and  ensnaring  wealth  on  the  one  hand,  and  fre'ed 
on  the  other  from  persecution,  which  invariably 
sanctifies  error,  surrounded  with  a  population  who 
will  neither  be  tramelled  with  kings  or  priests,  a 
22* 


20  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

people  liberal,  intelligent,  and  inquiring,  it  would 
be  difficult  to  propagate  error  in  any  shape  without 
detection.  But  my  time  is  short  j  draw  near  and 
receive  my  parting  message  to  the  Neutral  French. 
Say  unto  them, 

"  Behold  !  the  Lord  worketh  a  wonder  in  your 
day  ;  ye  thought  it  evil  to  be  driven  from  your 
native  land,  but  the  Lord  meant  it  for  good  •  he 
was  preparing  one  of  the  nations  of  the  earth  for 
the  blessings  of  civil  freedom  ;  and  to  this  end,  he 
transplanted  you'  from  a  soil  endeared  to  you  by 
fond  associations,  but  given  up  to  arbitrary  power, 
to  one  destined  to  be  free,  happy,  and  independent. 
In  ages  to  come,  the  exceeding  riches  of  his  good 
ness  shall  be  made  manifest,  and  men  shall  tell  of 
his  righteousness.  To  those  who  gave  themselves 
up  to  despair  and  despondence,  who  refused  all 
comfort,  and  went  mourning  to  their  graves,  it  can 
avail  nothing  ;  but  you  that  remain,  behold  the 
reward  of  patience  to  you  who  took  joyfully  the 
spoiling  of  your  goods,  who  at  the  divine  command 
left  all,  and  followed  the  leadings  of  Providence, 
with  full  trust  that  he  who  decreed  this  thing  could 
not  err,  the  reward  is  great.  A  few  years  from 
this,  and  there  is  not  an  Acadian  that  would  volun 
tarily  return  to  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt.  No  !  they 
would  say,  '  Where  Liberty  dwells,  there  is  my 
country.'1  Farewell!  forget  not  him  who  with  a 
strong  hand  arid  a  mighty  arm  brought  you  forth 
out  of  the  house  of  bondage.  Farewell !  beloved 
people,  fare — " 

The  quivering  lip  refused  to  utter  more.  Madam 
laid  her  hand  upon  the  heart ;  its  pulsations  had 
stopped  forever.  She  raised  and  bore  from  the 
room  her  almost  fainting  daughter,  whose  gentle 
spirit  had  on  this  morning  sustciined  so  much. 

After  dinner,  a  note  was  despatched  to  General 
Howe,  saying,  "  that  a  stranger  man,  who  had 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH  21 

sought  their  charity,  had  died  suddenly  in  their 
house,  and  requesting  the  favor,  as  the  deceased 
seemed  a  very  good,  religious  man,  of  interring  him 
in  the  burial  place  of  the  church-yard  on  the  ensu 
ing  evening.'"  The  request  was  very  politely  grant 
ed,  and  no  questions  asked  ;  and  at  seven  in  the 
evening  he  was  accordingly  interred,  a  few  of  the 
church  and  people  following  him  to  the  grave, 
though  some  of  them,  like  Peter,  followed  afar  off. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  May  this  right  hand,  whose  skill 

Can  wake  the  harp  at  will, 
And  hid  the  listener's  joys  or  griefs,  in  light  or  darkness  come, 

Forget  its  godlike  power, 

If,  for  one  brief,  short,  hour, 
My  heart  forget  Jerusalem,  fallen  city  of  my  home."  —  HALLECX. 

THE  "  merry  dinner  and  the  deep  carouse,"  on 
the  day  that  succeeded  the  obsequies  of  Father 
Joseph,  was  harrowing  to  the  feelings  of  Josephine 
and  Madam  St.  Pierre.  We  mentioned  there  was 
a  mess  of  British  officers  quartered  at  the  house ; 
true,  they  were  seated  at  the  table,  but  the  uproar 
ious  mirth  was  often  heard  to  the  far  ends  of  the 
building  ;  and  at  all  times,  among  an  imprisoned 
and  half-starving  population,  appeared  entirely  out 
of  place,  but  on  this  occasion,  particularly,  it  grated 
most  shockingly  on  the  ears  of  the  occupants. 

It  is  well  known  that  Boston,  at  that  time,  was 
in  great  distress  for  the  common  necessaries  of  life. 
What  few  provisions  they  could  obtain,  were  paid 
for. at  a  most  extravagant  price,  and  many  families 
suffered  exceedingly  for  want  of  necessary  food. 
Thus  far,  the  family  of  Ferdinand  had  managed  to 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

get  along  without  suspicion  :  the  precautions  of 
Madam  and  Josephine,  since  the  absence  of  the 
master  of  the  house,  were  managed  so  discreetly, 
that  no  suspicions  appeared  to  have  fallen  upon 
them  ;  but  it  is  highly  probable  it  would  not  have 
been  the  case  long,  had  they  continued  to  hold  the 
place  :  but  it  chanced  that  the  place  very  soon  after 
this  became  too  warm  for  their  jailers,  and  the 
trials  to  which  the  imprisoned  patriots  of  Boston 
were  subjected,  drew  towards  an  end.  It  belongs 
to  history  to  narrate  the  causes  of  its  evacuation  at 
this  time.  It  was  singular,  but  such  was  the  case, 
that  no  suspicions  had  fallen  on  any  of  the  St. 
Pierre  family  ;  and  as  to  Ferdinand's,  Gen.  Howe, 
who  had  occasionally  seen  them  since  his  residence 
there,  entirely  counted  upon  their  friendship ;  and, 
grateful  for  the  kindness  extended  to  his  friends, 
who  had  unceremoniously  quartered  in  their  house, 
he  had  resolved  to  take  them  off  with  him,  and  that 
Madam  and  the  beautiful  Josephine  should  have 
the  honor  of  accompanying  him  to  a  place  of  safety. 

Accordingly,  he  waited  on  them  the  day  before 
the  evacuation  of  Boston,  and  being  ushered  into 
the  only  sitting  apartment  on  the  first  floor  that 
Josephine  had  reserved  for  herself,  with  a  very 
condescending  bow,  he  commenced. 

"  Madam,  I  feel  extremely  grateful  to  you  for  the 
exemplary  kindness  you  have  manifested  towards 
the  King's  officers,  whom  the  laws  of  war  have 
compelled  us  to  place  in  your  dwelling,  in  such  an 
unceremonious  manner,  and  also  for  your  consider 
ate  humanity  extended  towards  the  unfortunate  sick 
and  wounded  at  the  barracks,  whom  your  servants, 
by  your  orders,  have  so  often  ministered  unto  ;  and 
I  have  come  to  the  resolution  to  take  you  with  me 
to  Halifax,  and,  if  you  choose,  ultimately  to  Eng 
land,  where,  you  know,  your  husband  (who,  by 
the  way;  I  am  sadly  afraid  has  fallen  into  the  hands 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  23 

of  these  rebels)  can  follow  whenever  he  gets  releas 
ed  ;  and  doubt  not,  madam,  that  the  King,  my 
master,  will  fully  appreciate  your  loyalty." 

A  smile  passed  over  the  face  of  Josephine,  whiie 
she  replied,  "  The  King,  Sir.  is  under  no  obliga 
tions  to  us  ;  we  only  performed  the  common  duties 
of  humanity,  which  the  king's  King,  commands. 
If  the  gentlemen  have  been  comfortably  accommo 
dated  in  my  house,  they  are  entirely  welcome  ;  you 
do  me  too  much  honor,  and  I  must  beg  leave  to 
decline  it." 

c:  Oh,  but,  madam,  you  cannot  suppose  I  would 
leave  you  to  the  mercies  of  these  Hottentots  ;  I 
should  tremble  for  your  fate,  when  the  rebel  army 
shall  have  entered  Boston,  as  they  assuredly  will, 
as  soon  as  we  leave  it.  Don't  let  the  fear  of  losing 
a  few  paltry  thousands,  induce  you  to  risk  yourself 
with  such  a  rabble,  composed  of  the  very  dregs  of 
society" 

"  I  have  no  fears,  Sir,"  said  Josephine.  "  The 
King  I  serve,  is  able  to  protect  me.  Besides,"  she 
added,  "  I  have  crossed  the  water  once,  and  hope 
never  to  again." 

"  You  surprise  me,  madam.  I  had  thought  you 
a  native  of  this  province,  notwithstanding  your 
French  name.  Can  it  be  you  are  from  France  ? 
You  speak  English  extremely  well." 

"  No.  Sir.  I  was  born  in  your  King's  dominions." 

"  Indeed  !  In  what  part  of  the  United  King 
dom  ?" 

"  I  will  show  you  where,  Sir."  said  Josephine, 
rising  with  evident  emotion,  and  leading  the  way 
to  the  hall.  The  General  of  his  Majesty's  forces 
followed  in  undissembled  astonishment.  Gliding 
to  the  upper  end  of  the  hall,  she  stepped  before  the 
landscape  described  in  a  former  page,  and,  pointing, 
directed  the  attention  of  the  General  to  the  first  in 
the  group. 


24  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

"  There,  Sir,  was  my  happy  home  ;  beneath 
those  trees  I  sported  the  blissful  hours  of  child 
hood ;  peace,  plenty,  and  prosperity  were  then  our 
portion.  Surrounded  by  numerous  relations  and 
kind  friends,  and  happy  in  the  affections  of  a  father 
whose  face  I  have,  never  seen  since,"  and  a  strug 
gling  tear  attested  the  sincerity  of  her  grief. 

"  Well,  in  truth,  madam,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  con 
ceive  in  what  part  of  his  Majesty's  dominions  you 
were  ;  if  that  is  connected  with  the  next,  the 
Indian  bespeaks  it  to  have  been  some  part  of  this 
continent.  I  have  often  noticed  these  views" — 

Without  waiting  to  hear  the  remainder,  Jose 
phine  passed  on  to  the  next,  where  the  mournful 
procession  is  represented  as  having  gained  the  shore, 
from  which  they  were  about  to  embark. 

"  There,"  said  she,  "  is  my  beloved  mother,  faint 
ing  in  my  brother's  arms  ;  there,  my  noble-minded 
sister,  Pauline  j  there,  my  sainted  grandfather  j  and 
there,  (pointing  to  the  last,)  there  we  are,  tossing 
about  in  a  tempestuous  sea,  lighted  from  the  shore 
by  the  blaze  oi  our  own  dwellings,  banished,  for-- 
ever  exiled  from  our  beloved 'Acadia!  Think  you, 
General  Howe,  that  we  would  ever  again  volunta 
rily  entrust  ourselves  to  British  clemency  ?  " 

The  person  addressed,  reddened  to  the  very  tern* 
pies,  and  scarcely  could  he  raise  his  eyes  to  the 
angelic  countenance  of  her  who  stood  beside  him, 
so  beautiful  in  her  sorrow,  so  dignified  in  her  just 
resentment.  At  length  he  said,  drawing  a  long 
breath, 

"  I  have  heard  imperfectly  of  this  thing  before, 
but  never  realized  it  ;  and  were  they  all  like  thee  ? 
Accursed,  forever  accursed,  be  the  cruel  policy  that 
directed  such  an  act  of  barbarity  and  injustice  ;  in 
this  age  it  could  never  occur." 

"  No,  it  never  can  again,"  said  Josephine.  Gen* 
eral  Howe,  your  King  has  different  subjects  to  deal 


I 

THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  25 

with  here.  The  arms  you  have  taught  them  to 
use  in  exterminating  an  unoffending  people,  are 
now  directed  against  yourselves  ;  they  will  take 
warning,  and  not  lay  them  tamely  down,  as  we 
did.  Believe  me,  Sir,  they  will  never  lay  them 
down,  until  they  have  secured  the  blessings  of 
liberty  and  independence.'"' 

The  brow  of  the  fair  speaker  had  become  flushed 
with  the  intenseness  of  her  feelings,  and  involunta 
rily  she  had  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm.  Her  earn 
estness  had  led  her  further  than  she  was  aware  of  • 
for,  at  the  word  independence,  he  started  as  though 
stung  by  an  adder,  exclaiming, 

"  Ha !  fair  syren,  and  art  thou  so  deep  in  their 
counsels  ?  and  (rudely  shaking  the  fair  hand  from 
his  arm)  with  all  thy  seeming  innocence  too  ?  " 

"  Bear  witness,  heaven,"  said  Josephine,  raising 
her  fine  eyes,  "  that  I  have  never  exchanged  a 
word  with  them  on  the  subject.  But  my  grand 
father  prophesied" — 

"  Oh,  a  truce  with  prophecies,  if  that  is  all. 
Well,  I  prophesy,  too,  that  when  our  gracious  sov 
ereign  shall  have  thoroughly  chastised  these  his 
rebellious  subjects,  and  brought  them  to  uncondi 
tional  submission" — 

"  Flatter  not  yourself,  General  Howe,  this  will 
ever  be  the  case.  You  will  never  conquer  this 
people." 

"  Well,  we  will  not  dispute,"  said  the  General. 
"  Nor  can  I  listen  longer  to  what  I  must  not  hear. 
Any  one  but  me,  fair  circe,  would  have  ordered 
you  in  confinement,  or  carried  you  off  prisoner  of 
war.  Come,  don't  curl  that  pretty  lip  at  me.  When 
Boston  gets  to  be  rebel  headquarters,  and  some  mob 
ruler  shall  lord  it  over  this  illustrious  land,  you 
will,  perhaps,  make  us  a  visit." 

"  When,"  said  Josephine,  with  kindling  eye  and 
flushed  cheek,  "  a  sovereign's  ingratitude  and  na- 


26  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

tion's  neglect  shall  reward  the  services  of  General 
Howe,  by  punishing  him  for  not  doing  ivhat  could 
not  be  do?te,  he  may,  perhaps,  visit  us  ;  and  one  at 
least  (extending  her  hand  with  a  very  sweet  smile) 
will  be  glad  to  see  him." 

He  took  the  offered  hand,  and  pressed  it  to  his 
lips,  but  he  could  not  smile  in  return.  The  last 
sentence  had  sunk  deep,  it  touched  a  chord  in  his 
breast  that  vibrated  painfully  ;  and,  despite  what 
they  say  of  superstition,  coming  events  had  cast 
their  shadows  over  him,  and  whispered  a  foreboding 
of  what  eventually  took  place  * 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  Deep,  in  unfathomable  mines 

Of  never-failing  skill, 
He  treasures  tip  his  bright  designs, 
And  works  his  sovereign  will." 

THE  next  day  was  a  stirring  one.  It  was  the 
ever-memorable  seventeenth  of  March,  when  the 
foot  of  British  foeman  for  the  last  time  trod  the 
streets  of  Boston.  Taking  with  him  all  the  fami 
lies  of  the  loyalists,  or  at  least  all  that  wished  to 
go,  General  Howe,  with  a  few  of  his  military  es 
cort,  brought  up  the  rear  in  haste  ;  for,  close  upon 
their  heels,  came  the  American  commander  with 
his  brave,  though  rude  and  undisciplined  army  ;  of 
what  General  Howe  denominated  the  "  mob,  the 
the  rabble,  the  tag-rag  and  bobtail,  the  scum  and 
ofTscouring  of  creation.  But  no  matter  what  their 


*  Howe  told  Hannah  More,  after  his  return  from  America, 
"  that  it  was  very  hard  to  be  blamed  for  not  doing  what  could 
not  be 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  7 

enemies — the  most  refined  and  Christian  English — 
called  them.  Hard  names,  it  is  said,  are  the  easiest 
to  speak,  (which,  doubtless,  is  the  cause  of  so  much 
scandal  being  spoken.)  No  matter,  on  they  came, 
pell  mell,  leather  aprons,  tow  trowsers,  patched 
coats,  and  all.  Some  had  stockings  and  shoes, 
some  had  none  ;  some  had  hats,  some  caps,  and 
some  only  an  apology  for  that  article  :  some  bore 
an  old  rusty  musket  on  their  shoulders,  and  some  a 
crowbar  or  shod-shovel,  and  some  of  the  guns  were 
without  stock,  lock,  or  barrel,  just  as  the  case  might 
be  ;  some  were  old  men,  bent  nearly  double  with 
age  ;  some,  boys  of  fifteen.  Even  their  officers, 
sometimes,  were  but  barely  clothed  ;  and,  in  truth, 
they  furnished  a  sorry  contrast,  in  outward  appear 
ance,  to  the  gold-laced  and  perfumed  gentry  that 
had  just  taken  to  their  ships ;  and  a  stranger  in  our 
world  might  well  have  looked  on  with  wonder  at 
the  demonstrations  of  extravagant  joy  that  greeted 
their  arrival. 

Standing  near  her  window,  and  partly  hid  by 
the  curtains,  the  fair  and  beautiful  Josephine  wit 
nessed  the  departure  of  the  British  army.  It  was, 
on  the  whole,  a  mournful  scene.  About  fifteen 
hundred  of  the  loyalists,  who  had  been  so  active  in 
behalf  of  the  British  as  to  be  afraid  to  remain,  em 
barked  with  them  ;  and  in  the  agonizing  leave- 
takings,  many  of  which  passed  under  her  eyes, 
Josephine  and  Madam  St.  Pierre  thought  they  al 
most  saw  their  own  banishment  acted  over  again. 
Could  it  fail  to  strike  them  there  was  a  day  of  retri 
bution  ?  Could  the  singular  providence,  by  which 
so  many  of  the  very  families  that  had  given  aid  in 
driving  out  the  Acadians,  were  now  driven  out 
themselves,  fail  to  strike  them  as  a  most  wonderful 
visitation  ? 

The  high  tory  families  of  Boston  were  generally, 
almost  universally,  such  as  had  large  possessions  to 
23 


28  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

leave  ;  and  it  was  not  without  many  tears  and 
wringing  of  hands,  that  their  early  homes  were 
abandoned  a  prey  to  the  victor.  It  was,  tqo,  in  an 
inclement  season  of  the  year.  History  tells  us  that 
the  vessels  employed  to  carry  the  troops  and  the 
royalist  fugitives,  were  obliged  to  wait  two  days 
after  all  was  ready,  before  they  could  get  out  of  the^ 
harbor,  the  winds  were  so  high  and  dead  ahead ; 
and  that  the  accommodations  for  the  families  were 
very  bad,  and  so  crowded  that  General  Howe  had 
serious  apprehensions  they  should  never  be  able  to 
reach  port  any  where.  His  own  situation  was  a 
frightfnl  one,  for  the  preservation  of  his  army  de 
pended  upon  the  risk  ;  he  felt  they  were  surround 
ed,  and  be  the  dangers  of  the  sea  what  they  might, 
as  a  soldier,  there  was  no  alternative.  One  other 
danger  awaited  them — that  of  being  blown  off  to 
the  West  Indies  without  provisions.  Their  situa 
tion,  in  such  an  event,  would  have  been  dreadful ; 
as  it  was,  they  did  not  get  fairly  out  to  sea  until  a 
week  after  they  left  the  port  of  Boston.  It  will  be 
recollected  they  were  permitted  to  depart  in  peace 
by  agreement  with  General  Washington,  on  condi 
tion  of  leaving  their  munitions  of  war  and  sparing 
the  town,  the  burning  of  which  would  not  only 
have  been  a  great  public  loss,  but  have  beggared 
hundreds  of  patriot  families.  Howe  had  prepared 
combustible  materials  in  every  part  of  the  town, 
ready  to  fire  in  a  moment,  in  case  of  molestation. 
History  describes  the  departure  of  the  loyalists  as 
presenting  a  mournful  spectacle  : 

"  The  fathers  carrying  burdens,  and  the  mothers 
their  children,  ran  weeping  towards  the  ships — 
the  last  salutations,  the  farewell  embraces  of  those 
who  departed  and  of  those  who  remained.  The 
sick,  the  aged,  the  wounded,  and  infants,  would 
have  moved  with  compassion  the  witnessers  of  their 
distress,  had  not  the  care  of  their  own  safety  ab 
sorbed  the  attention  of  all.  And  to  add  to  their 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  29 

distress,  there  was  a  most  alarming  dispute  com 
menced  between  the  British  soldiers  and  the  emi 
grants,  about  the  carts  and  horses  employed  to  carry 
them  to  the  ships,  and  another  that  broke  out  be 
tween  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  and  those  of  the 
fleet,  mutually  accusing  each  other  of  all  the  mis 
chances  that  had  befallen  them.  The  confusion 
was  terrible.  The  troops  and  loyalists  began  to 
embark  at  four  in  the  morning,  and  at  ten  all  were 
on  board.  The  vessels,  which  consisted  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  transports,  for  ten  thousand  men 
and  fifteen  hundred  loyalists,  were  overladen  with 
men  and  baggage  ;  provisions  were  scanty ;  and 
confusion  was  every  where." 

"  Who  does  not  see  the  hand  of  an  avenging  God 
in  all  this  ? "  said  Madam  St.  Pierre,  as  the  last 
group  of  distressed  emigrants  had  passed  their  house. 
"  Does  man  think,  because  he  forgets,  God  does  ?  if 
so,  he  will  find  himself  mistaken  indeed  !  It  would 
have  been  difficult  to  make  those  believe  who  were 
driven  out  from  Acadia  twenty  years  ago,  by  '  an 
expedition  from  Boston,'  that  many  of  them  would 
live  to  see  their  oppressors  driven  out  in  their  turn. 
Oh,  God  !  pardon  our  rebellious  thoughts.  We  ac 
cused  thee  of  forgetting  us  ;  we  chided  at  thy  long 
delay  :  we  felt  that  thou  hadst  hid  thy  face  from 
us  :  that  clouds  and  darkness  surrounded  thee  ;  but 
we  did  not  realize  that  righteousness  and  judgment 
were  the  habitation  of  thy  throne  :  forgive  us,  O 
our  God  !  » 

General  Howe  had  issued  a  proclamation,  com 
manding  "  all  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  to  keep  in 
their  houses,"  a  thing  which  they  had  decided 
before  hand  to  do  ;  but  all  their  care  could  not 
prevent  the  occasional  despoiling  of  their  goods, 
British  soldiers  often  bursting  into  houses  as  they 
passed,  and  seizing  whatever  came  to  hand.  Jose 
phine  remained  immovable  'until  the  last  one  had 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

passed.  General  Howe  and  his  escort  brought  up 
the  rear,  when,  in  passing,  he  raised  his  eyes,  and 
saw  Josephine  agitated  and  in  tears.  The  General 
kissed  his  hand,  and  was  joined  in  the  civility  by 
his  companions  ;  the  standard-bearer  waved  his  col 
or,  and  the  music  echoed  a  farewell.  To  the  honor 
of  the  General,  he  did  not  reveal  the  sentiments  of 
Josephine  to  his  brother  officers,  though  well  must 
he  have  divined  the  true  position  of  Ferdinand, 
Had  he  done  sor  himself  could  scarcely  have  saved 
the  house  from  pillage. 

The  last  roll  of  the  drum  had  scarcely  died  away, 
when  the  languid  and  tearful  Josephine  appeared  a 
new  creature.  Clapping  her  hands,  all  wild  with 
delight,  she  exclaimed,  "  Every  one  to  his  post ! J; 
and,  quicker  than  thought,  the  silken  curtains  were 
torn  down,  and  hoisted  for  flags  upon  the  roof  and 
balconies,  and  every  little  decoration  attended  to 
the  shortness  of  the  time  would  allow,  to  welcome 
the  heroes  of  Bunker's  Hill. 

In  a  balcony  that  overlooked  the  front  of  the 
building,  stood  Madam  St.  Pierre  and  the  fair  mis 
tress  of  the  mansion,  surrounded  by  their  house 
hold,  waving  their  white  kerchiefs  as  the  different 
regiments  of  patriotic  Americans  defiled  before  the 
house.  The  little  band  had  not  been  re-enforced  by 
all  the  brave  and  gallant  spirits  that  afterwards 
flocked  to  ther  standard  ;  but  Washington,  the  im 
mortal  Washington,  in  the  vigor  of  his  years  and 
the  beginning  of  his  fame,  was  there,  and  many 
other  chiefs,  of  noble  name  in  the  after  annals  of 
the  country,  were  there  also,  and  each  as  he  passed 
touched  his  hat  to  the  ladies ;  and  as  a  few  fine 
looking  officers  brought  up  the  rear,  who  followed 
the  example  of  the  others,  one  alone  took  off  his  hat 
and  waved  it  in  the  air ;  and  as  his  bright  sunny  face 
was  turned  up  to  the  balcony,  Josephine,  with  a 
shriek  of  joy,  recognised  her  husband.  She  did  not 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  31 

faint,  as  a  lady  of  modern  times  would  have  done, 
but  she  pressed  her  hand  upon  her  heart  to  hush 
its  tumultuous  throbs,  while  her  companions,  with 
loud  and  repeated  huzzas  cheered  the  young  sol 
dier  ;  the  children,  in  particular,  who  immediately 
recognised  their  father,  notwithstanding  the  meta 
morphosis,  were  so  elated  that  it  was  almost  diffi 
cult  to  hold  them  in  the  railing. 

"Well,  dear  mother,  we  are  now  identified  with 
the  friends  of  freedom  in  good  earnest,"  said  Jose 
phine,  turning  to  Madam  St.  Pierre,  as  the  last 
horseman  defiled  into  the  Common,  where  a  tem 
porary  bivouac  had  been  agreed  upon,  until  quar 
ters  could  be  assigned  them.  Arrangements  were 
immediately  made  at  the  house  of  Josephine,  for 
the  accommodation  of  as  many  as  they  could  quar 
ter  ;  and  it  was  not  until  late  in  the  day  that  the 
exhilerated  Ferdinand,  accompanied  by  a  posse  of 
his  brother  officers,  arrived  at  the  welcome  thresh- 
hold  of  his  own  home. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  The  man  that  is  not  moved  with  what  he  reads, 
That  takes  not  fire  at  their  heroic  deeds ; 
Unworthy  of  the  blessings  of  the  brave, 
Is  base  in  kind,  and  born  to  be  a  slave." 

THE  following  letter  will  give  some  idea  of  the 
state  of  feeling  in  the  family  of  Ferdinand  at  this 
time,  and  also  of  the  improvement  in  his  wife,  from 
a  few  years'  residence  among  some  of  the  most 
polished  and  intellectual  society  in  the  country. 
The  reader  must  have  been  aware  that,  formerly, 
whenever  her  accomplished  sister  appeared,  she  was 
always  in  the  back  ground.  The  letter  was  writ- 
23* 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

ten  a  few  days  subsequent  to  the  event  we  have 
been  describing. 

"  DEAR  AND  HONORED  SISTER — This  will  reach 
you  with  the  welcome  and  soul-stirring  intelligence, 
that  Boston  is  now  in  possession  of  the  brave  and 
patriotic  Americans,  and  the  devastating  army  of 
General  Howe  has  evacuated  the  town.  I  believe 
his  force  carried  with  them  the  curses  of  the  op 
pressed  and  plundered  inhabitants.  You  would  not, 
my  dear,  recognise  the  place,  so  shockingly  has  it 
been  defaced  by  these  Goths  and  Vandals  ;  I  mean 
as  respects  its  splendor  and  opulence,  it  has  been 
sadly  plundered  and  defaced.  But  whether  dis 
mantled  or  not,  it  will  always  be  recognised  as  the 
place  where  the  decisive  blow  for  freedom  has  been 
struck.  Could  you,  my  heroic  sister,  have  wit 
nessed  what  I  did  a  few  days  since — could  you 
have  seen  the  enthusiastic  reception  given  to  the 
friends  of  liberty  when  they  entered  the  town  with 
their  noble  looking  chief,  (the  finest  looking  man  I 
have  ever  seen,)  you  would  have  enjoyed  it  exquis 
itely.  There  is  a  spirit  in  these  raw  and  undisci 
plined  troops,  ill  clad  and  inexperienced  though 
they  may  be,  that  is  altogether  different  from  the 
hirelings  of  the  English  army,  or  the  treacherous 
allies  they  have  enlisted  here. 

"  I  could  not,  my  dear  Pauline,  but  recollect  the 
last  words  of  our  ancient  grandfather,  uttered  on 
the  very  spot  afterwards  consecrated  by  the  blood 
of  patriots,  when  General  Washington  entered  the 
town.  I  trust,  under  God,  he  will  prove  a  deliverer 
of  the  country  with  whose  fortunes  we  are  now 
identified.  I  believe  Ferdinand  told  you,  when  on 
his  late  embassy,  that  he  was  to  have  a  commission 
in  the  American  army.  I  can  never  describe  my 
feelings  when  I  saw  him  ride  by  in  the  patriot 
uniform,  it  being  the  first  intimation  I  had  of  his 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  33 

joining  the  service  ;  but  I  trust  I  shall  not  disgrace 
the  mothers  and  wives  of  American  heroes  by  any 
foolish  fear  or  unthankful  murmurs.  I  applaud 
dear  Ferdinand,  and  am  prepared  to  meet  all  the 
vicissitudes  we  may  be  called  to  pass  through  ;  if 
it  is  the  will  of  God  that  we  should  be  a  sacrifice 
on  the  altar  cf  liberty.  I  bow  in  humble  submission, 
sufficiently  blessed  in  being  permitted  to  witness 
the  dawning-  of  this  glorious  revolution. 

"  And  now,  dear  sister,  what  shall  we  say  of 
those  who  have  gone  dowri  to  the  grave  sorrowing 
as  though  there  was  no  hope  ?  of  our  afflicted  and 
expatriated  countrymen,  to  whom  this  day  can  af 
ford  no  pleasure  ?  who  have  yielded  to  a  grief  that 
has  consumed  them  before  they  could  see  the  end 
of  their  banishment  from  that  fondly  remembered 
home,  to  which  they  clung  till  the  latest  hour  ? 
Verily,  the  Lord  has  not  kept  his  anger  forever,  but 
has  with  the  punishment  made  a  way  of  escape. 
He  hath  brought  us  by  a  way  that  we  knew  not, 
though  his  footsteps  were  in  the  great  deep,  and  his 
way  not  known. 

"  I  now  fully  believe  that  he  who  holds  in  his 
hands  ths  destinies  of  nations,  had  gracious  designs 
in  bringing  us  here  ;  that  he  transplanted  us  to  a 
warmer  clime  in  order  to  incorporate  us  with  a  free 
and  happy  people,  and  unite  us  in  the  great  work. 
Alas  !  alas  !  that  the  patience  of  the  saints  could 
not  have  held  out,  and  enabled  them  to  live  to  see 
this  day.  Where  are  the  thousands  who  embarked 
with  us,  when  driven  out  of  the  land  of  our  fathers  ? 
Where  those  who  perished  with  grief  and  despair 
before  they  ever  saw  land  ?  Where  those  who  mis 
erably  gave  up  all  exertion,  and  lingered  a  few 
years  after  their  arrival  in  the  asylums  and  pauper- 
houses  :  Where  those  who  foolishly  sought  in 
France  a  reward  for  their  sufferings  ?  Where  the 
hundreds  who  perished,  from  the  pestilential  heat 


34  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

of  the  climate,  on  the  sultry  plains  of  St.  Domingo  ? 
Where  those  whom  the  relentless  Byron  drove  from 
the  Falkland  islands  ?  Where  those  who  threw 
themselves  into  the  arms  of  the  savages,  and  be 
came  incorporated  with  that  blood-thirsty  and  re 
lentless  race,  whpse  crimes,  committed  against  all 
the  better  feeling's  of  human  nature,  will  eventually 
call  down  the  vengeance  of  heaven  to  their  com 
plete  extermination  ?  Where  the  thousands  who 
have  wandered  back,  through  woods  and  wilds, 
encountering  all  the  perils  of  the  desert  and  the 
climate,  to  lay  their  bones  beneath  the  sod  polluted 
by  the  foot  of  the  oppressor  ?  Could  they  have 
stood  where  Moses  stood,  and  viewed  the  land  of 
promise  from  afar,  how  different  would  have  been 
their  feelings  !  It  would  doubtless  have  been  harder 
to  force  them  back,  than  it  was  to  transport  them 
in  the  first  place. 

"  But  we  are  so  ignorant,  miserably  ignorant  of 
the  future  !  Still,  I  cannot  see  why  those  of  my 
unfortunate  countrymen  could  not  have  been  as 
patient  as  thou,  my  Pauline,  and  resorted  to  their 
talents  as  thou  and  Ferdinand,  my  brothers,  and 
our  resolute  and  honored  mother. 

"  By  the  way,  hast  thou  ever  learnt  of  the  death 
of  our  old  persecutor,  Colonel  Winslow  ?  He  has 
been  dead  now  two  or  three  years,  yet  it  was  but 
the  other  day  our  mother  took  up  a  newspaper  con 
taining  his  obituary,  and  a  long  arid  pompous  list 
of  offices  which  he  held  under  the  two  tyrants, 
George  the  Second  and  Third ;  some  of  them, 
methought,  were  too  insignificant  for  enumera 
tion  ;  but  eleven  different  ones  were  named,  with 
high  praises  for  the  integrity  with  which  he  dis 
charged  them — among  others,  'the  office  of  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  the  provincial  forces  employed 
to  remove  the  encroachments  of  the  French  in  Nova 
Scotia.'  Encroachments,  indeed !  There  would 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  35 

have  been  some  sense  in  speaking  of  the  encroach 
ments  of  the  English,  whose  soldiers  were  at 
that  moiifent  rioting  in  the  wealth  they  had  pil 
laged  from  us.  But  the  language  of  the  papers 
of  that  day  were  very  different  from  the  republican 
tone  of  this.  Will  you  believe  it,  dear  sister  ?  after 
a  sickening  encomium  on  the  bravery  of  this  man, 
it  wound  up  with  the  sentence,  '  An  honest  man's 
the  noblest  work  of  God  ; '  a  quotation,  by  the  way, 
that  I  believe  has  been  oftener  prostituted  than  any 
other  in  the  English  language. 

'•  Well,  our  good  mother,  who  certainly  appears 
to  have  as  little  of  the  leaven  of  malice  in  her  dis 
position  as  almost  any  other,  stood  perfectly  petri 
fied  a  few  moments  after  reading  it.  At  last  she 
broke  forth  in  a  burst  of  resentment  that  would 
have  electrified  the  old  tyrant  himself,  if  he  could 
have  heard  it. 

"'Yes,  thou  wert  honest,'  she  said,  i  as  I  can 
witness.  Thou  didst  agree  to  do  this  deed  for  a 
specific  sum,  and  thou  didst  it.  No  pang  of  remorse, 
no  touch  of  pity,  was  suffered  to  disturb  the  integ 
rity  guaranteed  by  the  purchase-money.  If  the 
plunder  of  the  defenceless,  the  separation  of  fami 
lies- — if  insulting  the  religion,  and  breaking  the 
hearts  of  thousands — if  burning  of  dwellings,  and 
turning  out  poor  dumb  nature  to  perish,  and  inflict 
ing  merciless  chastisement  upon  our  hunted  race — 
if,  in  short,  the  extermination  of  a  whole  people,  in 
obedience  to  the  commands  of  a  tyrant,  and  in  re 
quital  of  his  gold,  be  honesty,  then  thou  wert  hon 
est  ;  for  never  did  Lucifer,  from  his  dark  dominions, 
send  forth  a  messenger  more  prompt  and  unrelent 
ing  :  and  I  only  wish  thou  couldst  have  lived  to 
have  been  driven  out  in  thy  turn,  as  others  like 
thee  have  been,  to  the  fields  stained  with  our  blood, 
and  blackened  by  the  fires  of  thy  fierce  soldiery.' 

"  You  may  imagine   my  astonishment,   but   I 


36  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

believe  it  was  the  only  name  that  could  have  roused 
her  blood  to  such  resentment,  and  I  do  not  think  it 
would  have  broken  out  but  for  the  extravagant  and 
misplaced  encomiums  of  that  ridiculous  paper.  But 
let  him  rest ;  he  who  has  taken  him,  knows  where 
to  find  him  in  the  day  when  he  shall  judge  the 
world  in  righteousness.  Alas  !  it  is  easy  for  wealth 
to  have  a  character  here,  but  they  cannot  bribe  the 
omniscient  God. 

"  Thou  mayest  ask,  dear  Pauline,  if  I  think  it 
possible  that  these  patriotic  Americans  may  not 
give  over,  and  bend  again  to  the  yoke  of  the  tyrant  ? 
I  am  prepared  to  answer  that  I  think  they  never 
will.  Aside  from  their  determination  to  secure  the 
blessings  of  freedom,  every  thing  has  taught  them 
no  mercy  would  be  shown  them,  in  case  of  such  a 
surrender.  Could  you  have  seen  the  battle  I  wit 
nessed,  1  know  you  could  have  had  no  doubts  of 
their  perseverance.  It  was  more  than  I  can  find 
language  to  describe.  You  cannot  conceive  of  the 
erffect  here,  when  the  enemy  were  twice  driven 
back,  with  immense  slaughter  ;  one  simultaneous 
shout  of  joy  rang  through  the  town.  It  must  have 
struck  our  jailers  with  something  of  pain  I  think. 
Had  not  General  Clinton  gone  over  in 'person  and 
rallied  them,  I  think  they  would  never  have  dared 
the  assault  the  third  time  ;  and  although,  from  want 
of  ammunition,  the  brave  Americans  had  to  aban 
don  their  position,  it  was  a  dear-bought  victory,  if 
such  it  could  be  called.  Oh,  the  heaps  of  slaugh 
tered  British  left  upon  that  hill,  and  the  poor  muti 
lated  beings  brought  over  here,  it  would  have  wrung 
your  heart. 

"  Our  situation,  a  few  days  since,  was  extremely 
perilous.  The  neighboring  hills  were  covered  with 
redoubts  ;  their  standards  floated  upon  every  height 
within  view  of  the  city  ;  even  the  gleaming  of  their 
arms  could  be  seen  from  some  parts.  Boston  was 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  37 

completely  in  their  power,  and  we  were  expecting 
every  moment  to  be  blown  to  atoms  with  the  Eng 
lish,  '  as  often  a  shell  thrown  in  would  explode 
among  some  combustible  materials,  and  the  alarm 
ing  cry  of  fire  was  added  to  our  other  terrors.  The 
English  thought  the  city  would  be  taken  by  assault, 
and  Howe  protested  '  if  it  was  taken,  they  should 
find  nothing  but  a  heap  of  ashes.' 

"  The  embarkation  of  the  loyalists,  as  they  were 
called,  was  quite  a  distressing  scene.  It  reminded 
us  forcibly  of  our  own  banishment,  except  as  these 
went  voluntarily ;  and  yet  their  embarkation  was 
not  marked  by  the  fortitude  that  distinguished  our 
fathers  ;  there  was  none  of  that  saint-like  patience, 
that  heroic  fortitude,  that  humble  submission  to  the 
divine  will,  that  marked  their  deportment  on  that 
occasion  :  all  was  weeping,  wringing  oi  hands,  and 
lamentation,  among  these  voluntary  slaves  of  arbi 
trary  power.  Is  it  not  a  singular  providence,  that 
they  should  have  to  go  to  Nova  Scotia  ?  They 
were  extremely  reluctant  to  do  so,  but  it  seemed  as 
though  every  other  place  was  interdicted.  General 
Howe,  in  particular,  was  exceedingly  averse  to  go 
ing  there,  but  he  said  there  was  no  alternative  ;  and 
they  seemed  in  a  great  hurry  at  the  last  of  it,  as 
well  they  might,  since  the  van  of  the  American 
army  entered  the  town  at  one  end,  as  the  rearguard 
of  the  enemy  left  it  on  the  other. 

"  You  cannot  imagine  our  relief,  after  sixteen 
months  of  such  suffering  and  terror  as  we  have 
endured,  from  privations  of  various  kinds  too.  We 
have  now  plenty  of  provisions,  which  came  in  with 
the  American  army,  who  found  us  literally  starving, 
the  last  morsels  we  had  having  been  snatched  from 
us  by  the  poor  wretches  who  have  just  departed. 
They  have,  however,  left  what  they  could  not  take 
away,  a  quantity  of  coal  and  wheat,  and  some  other 
grains  ;  one  hundred  and  fifty  horses,  besides  the 


38  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

two  hundred  and  fifty  pieces  of  cannon,  four  mor 
tars,  and  other  munitions  of  war.  The  property  of 
the  tories  lias  been  confiscated,  and  is  to  be  sold  in 
a  few  days.  A  considerable  quantity  of  specie,  il 
is  said,  has  boon  buried  in  cellars,  &c.  by  the  patri 
ots,  who,  I  presume,  will  now  mak-  a  good  use  of 
it.  Many  will  make  fortunes  by  buying  tiie  estates 
of  the  banished  tories.  The  first  care  will  be, 
however,  Ferdinand  says,  to  fortify  the  town,  and 
there  is  a  great  French  engineer,  and  four  Prus 
sians,  who  are  to  superintend  the  work. 

"  We  are  all,  notwithstanding  our  late  sufferings. 
in  good  health.  You  will  rejoice  with  me  that  my 
two  eldest  girls,  and  oldest  boy  likewise,  are  at  a 
seminary  in  the  interior  of  the  State,  and  have  es 
caped  the  scenes  we  have  had  to  go  through.  They 
are  in  good  hands,  and  we  felt  no  anxiety  on  their 
account.  Our  youngest,  however,  are  quite  delight 
ed — they  have  remained  in  the  city;  they  think 
they  shall  never  forget  what  they  have  witnessed, 
nor  the  sight  of  a  red  coat. 

"  We  have  made  arrangements  to  lodge  forty 
persons;  you  know  our  house  is  large,  and,  besides, 
less  injured  than  almost  any  other  from  our  late 
unwelcome  visitors.  I  have  omitted  to  give  you 
an  account  of  the  death  of  Father  Joseph,  who 
expired  at  my  house,  and  was  buried  from  here. 
He  has  been  travelling  in  disguise  for  a  long  time, 
trying  to  comfort  his  spiritual  children,  had  been 
concealed  some  time  in  this  place,  when  circum 
stances  rendered  it  necessary  he  should  leave  the 
place  of  his  concealment,  and  go  where  he  could 
be  better  attended  to.  Although  some  of  the  enemy 
were  quartered  in  my  house,  I  did  not  hesitate  to 
receive  him.  I  shall  leave  the  melancholy  history 
of  his  trials,  since  leaving  his  country,  and  of  his 
death,  to  a  future  occasion,  as  I  am  unwilling  to 
dim  the  joy  and  triumph  of  this  season,  by  the 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  39 

affecting  recital.     Besides  that,  I  have  already  ex 
tended  my  letter  to  a  most  extravagant  length. 

"  Farewell,  my  dear  sister,  with  my  love  to  the 
Chevalier,  my  brothers,  and  your  children.  May 
good  angels  guard  you  all.  Your  affectionate 

"  JOSEPHINE." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

But  nothing1  could  a  charm  impart, 
To  sooth  the  stranger's  woe  ; 

For  grief  was  heavy  at  his  heart, 
And  tears  began  to  flow." 


WE  pass  over  a  brief  period,  during  which  the 
Americans,  as  history  will  show,  were  by  no  means 
idle.  The  flames  of  war  had  burst  out  on  every 
fide — battles  had  been  fought  with  various  success, 
and  the  Declaration  of  Independence  had  been  pro 
claimed  throughout  the  thirteen  States  of  North 
America — the  summer  campaigns  were  ended,  and 
the  respective  armies  gone  into  winter  quarters.  • 

It  was  on  a  cold  and  dismal  evening  in  the  month 
of  January,  that  the  family  of  Ferdinand  were 
gathered  around  their  winter's  fire.  A  furious  tem 
pest  of  snow  and  sleet  shook  the  windows  and 
doors  of  the  house,  and  howled  dismally  in  the 
chimneys.  In  the  kitchen,  the  servants  had  gath 
ered  around  a  huge  wood  fire,  and  one  of  them, 
whom  they  called  the  story-teller,  was  reciting  a 
ghost-story  of  a  departed  tory,  whom,  he  averred, 
had  been  seen  to  walk  about  the  neighborhood, 
looking  for  buried  treasure. 

"  Now,  I'll  be  bound,"  says  one,  "  that's  not  it ; 
the  old  sinner  has  murdered  somebody  and  buried 
him  in  his  cellar,  or  something  of  that  sort,  I'll 
24 


40  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 


not  believe  money  is  of  such  consequence  in  Mother 
world.  Bill,  what  say  you  ?  " 

"  I  think  just  as  you  do,  Molly  ;  strange  things 
have  been  told  of  some  of  our  neighbors,  and  when 
the  enemy  was  here,  you  may  depend  there  was 
nothing  but  what  they  did  do." 

"  I  think,"  says  Molly,  "  the  old  tories  were  aw 
ful  wicked  critters.  Did  you  ever  hear  any  thing 
of  the  one  that  formerly  owned  this  huge  old  cas 
tle  ? " 

"No,  I  never,"  said  half  a  dozen  voices  at  once : 
"  come,  tell  us." 

u  Why,  you  see,"  said  Molly,  "  he  was  a  great, 
big-seeming  fellow,  with  a  power  of  money,  and 
nobody  knew  where  it  came  from.  One  thing  is 
certain,  he  married  four  wives,  and  they  all  died  in 
this  house,  or  he  murdered  them,  I  don't  know 
which,  but  people  had  strange  thoughts." 

"  Four  wives !  an  old  sinner,"  echoed  Bill  ; 
"  why,  to  be  sure  he  must  have  killed  them  ;  who 
ever  heard  of  so  many  dying  of  themselves  ?  " 

"  Never,"  said  another.  "  I  have  heard  my  grand 
father  say,  that  a  man  never  survives  his  fourth 
wife  honestly." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  as  I  should  know  the  old 
critter  if  I  saw  him,"  says  Bill ;  "  is  he  tall  or 
short  ? " 

"  Tall  as  the  moon,  to  be  sure,"  said  Molly  ; 
"  whoever  heard  of  a  ghost  being  short  ?  and,  be 
sides,  he  commonly  comes  in  such  stormy  nights : 
and  groans,  terrible  ones,  are  heard  often  from  him." 

"  You  mean  the  ghost,  Molly  ;  I  was  axing  about 
the  fellow  that  used  to  live  here." 

"  Oh,  he  was  neither  tall  or  short  ;  but  he  wore 
dark  clothes,  and  had  a  plaguey  dark  look  with 
him  ;  and  (speaking  in  an  under  tone)  I  should  not 
wonder  if  this  house  was  haunted,  for  they  do  say 
he  stabbed  a  Frenchman  in  one  of  these  chambers, 
Hark  !  was  not  that  a  groan  ?  " 


THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH  41 

A  loud  gust  of  wind  howled  through  the  kitchen 
chimney,  and  burst  in  the  door  at  the  same  time. 
The  terrified  inmates  rushed  to  the  far  part  of  the 
room  and  huddled  close  together ;  but  the  driving 
of  the  storm  and  cold  compelled  them  to  shut  the 
door  soon,  and  draw  round  the  fire  again. 

Ferdinand  was  at  home  on  a  furlough,  and  with 
his  wife  and  children — a  most  interesting  family  of 
sons  and  daughters— were  seated  round  a  table 
drawn  before  the  parlor  fire.  The  younger  ones 
laid  down  their  books,  and  the  elder  ones  paused 
in  their  employments  to  hear  him  recount  the  perils 
and  hardships  of  the  army  during  the  past  season,  a 
theme  they  never  tired  of.  The  females  of  the 
family  were  busy  in  making  coarse  shirts  and  other 
garments,  destined  for  the  brave  and  impoverished 
soldiers,  who  were,  too  many  of  them,  suffering  for 
such  relief.  They  were  a  gratuity,  and  the  chil 
dren  had  laid  up  all  their  spending  money  the  last 
year,  and  the  older  ones  denied  themselves  every 
article  of  luxury  for  this  benevolent  purpose  ;  and 
no  higher  reward  could  be  offered  to  any  of  the 
little  ones  at  any  time,  than  a  small  sum  to  add  to 
this  their  offering  of  benevolence  and  patriotism. 

Madam  St.  Pierre  was  unusually  grave  on  this 
evening.  The  happy  group  had  forcibly  recalled  to 
her  recollection  Acadia's  golden  age,  when,  blessed 
with  peace  and  plenty  in  their  own  dear  native 
land,  at  this  season,  after  a  day  spent  in  skating  or 
sliding  —  their  favorite  winter  amusement — they 
used  to  convene  around  their  cheerful  fireside  after 
the  close  of  day,  and  listen  to  the  tales  of  their  aged 
grandfather  about  the  old  French  wars.  It  was  not 
unusual  for  Madam  to  be  pensive  ;  years  had  not 
destroyed  the  memory  of  her  sorrows  or  her  losses, 
nor  effaced  the  memory  of  that  beloved  husband 
who  once  constituted  her  greatest  earthly  felicity, 
whose  fate  she  had  mourned  with  sincerest  sorrow, 


42  THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH. 

and  whose  trials  she  sometimes  wished  she  had 
been  permitted  to  share.  Unwilling  to  cast  a  blight 
upon  the  joys  of  others,  she  forbore  often  to  speak 
of  her  feelings  ;  and  on  this  evening,  finding  her 
heart  unusually  heavy,  retired  early  to  rest,  not 
withstanding  the  assurance  of  little  Louis,  who  said 
"  grandmamma  could  not  sleep,  the  wind  blew  so  ;" 
but,  pleading  fatigue,  she  nevertheless  retired  early 
to  her  pillow,  and,  soothed  and  composed  by  prayer, 
despite  the  raging  of  the  tempest,  soon  fell  asleep. 
The  conversation,  which  had  been  interrupted  by 
the  good  night  of  Madam,  who  had  to  give  and 
receive  a  kiss  from  all  the  little  ones,  was  now  re 
newed.  The  storm  continued  to  rage  with  unaba 
ted  violence,  and  indeed  had  rather  augmented  in 
its  fury ;  and  the  poor,  exposed,  and  houseless  beings 
roaming  about  the  country,  whom  the  fortunes  of 
war  had  made  outcasts,  and  especially  the  poor  sai 
lors,  exposed  to  its  fury  on  the  tempestuous  deep, 
were  most  feelingly  spoken  of. 

The  servants  in  the  kitchen,  after  their  first 
alarm,  had  carefully  barred  the  door,  and  again 
commenced  their  marvellous  stories  about  unquiet 
spirits,  until  there  was  not  one  of  them  but  felt 
his  hair  rise  on  his  head.  Suddenly,  a  loud  rap 
was  heard  at  the  front  door,  that,  notwithstanding 
the  extent  of  the  building,  and  the  noise  without, 
was  heard  to  the  remotest  extent  of  it.  The  whole 
population  of  the  kitchen  crowded  into  the  hall, 
each  endeavoring  to  get  behind  the  other.  The  rap 
was  repeated. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ? "  said  Ferdi 
nand,  opening  the  parlor-door  at  the  same  time,  and 
discovering  the  whole  company  huddled  together 
in  one  corner  of  the  hall. 

"  Open  that  door,"  shouted  Ferdinand,  in  a  voice 
of  thunder.  "  What  do  you  mean  by  keeping  one 
waiting  without  such  a  night  as  this  ? "  The  door 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  43 

flew  open  in  quick  time,  and  gave  ingress  to  a 
poor,  weather-beaten,  sailor-looking  man,  who,  tak 
ing  off  his  hat,  respectfully  advanced  and  inquired 
if  Ferdinand  was  the  master  of  the  house,  or  if 
he  was  within.  Now,  it  so  chanced  it  was  not 
the  custom  in  those  days  to  keep  a  visitor  or  mes 
senger  waiting  an  hour  in  a  cold  entry,  while  the 
servant  ascertained  whether  the  master  or  the  mis 
tress  of  the  house  chose  to  be  at  home.  On  the 
contrary,  if  even  a  beggar  made  such  inquiry,  he 
was  immediately  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the 
person  inquired  after.  We  do  not  say  they  were 
always  relieved,  but  they  were  sure  not  to  lose 
much  time  in  waiting. 

The  stranger  was  immediately  shown  into  the 
parlor,  and  with  graceful  hospitality,  Ferdinand, 
vacating  his  own  chair,  compelled  him  to  accept 
it,  near  the  fire,  to  dry  his  garments,  and  most 
amply  did  he  feel  rewarded,  when  thanked  in  the 
accents  of  his  native  land. 

For  many  years,  the  house  of  Ferdinand  had 
been  often  visited  by  the  remnant  of  that  unfortu 
nate  people,  who  were  exiled  with  himself,  when 
ever  their  necessities  compelled  them  to  ask  relief 
or  advice  ;  but,  of  late  years,  they  had  seldom  seen 
any  of  them  from  a  distance,  or  that  were  strangers. 
It  was,  therefore,  with  a  feeling  of  joy  that  the 
language  was  now  recognised.  Ferdinand  took  the 
dripping  hat,  and  little  Louis  brought  him  a  pair  of 
dry  shoes,  while  Joseph  and  Madeline  began  stir 
ring  the  fire,  raking  out  hot  coals,  and  putting  on 
more  wood.  Little  Margaret  asked  to  have  a  pair 
of  dry  stockings  given  to  the  poor  man,  and  the 
fair  mistress  of  the  mansion  busied  herself  in  pre 
paring  warm  wine  and  water  for  him. 

The  poor  Frenchman  was  affected  even  to  tears, 
at  meeting  with  such  kindness,  and  said, 


44  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

"  I  ought  to  apologise  for  this  intrusion,  and  give 
some  account  of  myself." 

"  By  no  means,"  said  Ferdinand.  "  Take  off 
your  wet  overcoat,  and  dry  your  garments  ;  you  are 
fatigued,  too,  travelling  in  this  driving  storm  ;  rest 
yourself,  my  friend,  while  we  prepare  some  hot 
supper  for  you." 

The  traveller  made  no  objection,  but,  with  the 
ready  politeness  of  a  Frenchman,  bowed  his  thanks, 
and  busied  himself  in  drying  his  garments  ;  during 
which,  Ferdinand  went  to  the  kitchen  to  demand 
an  explanation  of  the  rudeness  of  keeping  the  poor 
stranger  waiting  so  long.  To  say  "  they  were 
afraid  of  spirits,"  would  not  have  answered  ;  so 
they  one  and  all  protested  they  thought  "  the  inimy 
had  come."  With  this  apology,  the  master  was 
obliged  to  be  satisfied  ;  and  after  reprimanding  them 
severely  for  their  needless  alarm,  and  telling  them 
what  wretched  soldiers  they  would  make,  he  re 
turned  to  the  stranger. 

"  Now  that  is  cruel,"  said  Bill  ;  "  I  dars'nt  tell 
master  what  I  feared,  because  why  I  know  he  does 
not  believe  in  ghosts  and  haunted  houses  ;  but  I 
can  tell  him  I  am  no  more  'fraid  to  fight  the  reglars 
than  himself,  and  I  had  rather  encounter  ten  at 
once,  than  one  single  ghost.  No,  I  say  if  I've  got 
to  fight,  let  it  be  with  flesh  and  blood."  To  this 
brave  declaration  they  all  assented,  and  declared 
that  "  if  the  British  should  come  before  morning, 
they  would  jest  as  lief  as  not,  turn  out  and  fight 
'em  to  a  man." 

In  the  mean  time,  though  curiosity  was  not  a 
predominant  failing  in  this  well-ordered  family,  yet 
were  the  junior  branches  not  entirely  divested  of 
it ;  and  on  the  present  occasion,  these  little  descend 
ants  of  Eve  felt  a  longing  cL  sire  to  know  how  this 
poor  Frenchman  came  to  be  wandering  about  in 
this  inclement  weather,  and  whether  he  came  from 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  45 

the  east,  west,  north,  or  south.  Politeness,  howev 
er,  which  persons  with  French  blood  in  their  veins 
rarely  lose  sight  of,  restrained  them.  Little  Louis, 
however,  at  length  ventured  to  him,  and  looking  up 
earnestly  in  his  face,  said, 

"  Do  you  come  from  the  army,  Sir  ?  " 

Ferdinand  was  about  to  reprove  him,  when  the 
stranger,  kindly  taking  the  little  hand  which  was 
laid  upon  his  knee,  answered, 

"  No,  my  dear  little  fellow,  I  have  not  been  so 
happy  as  to  see  the  army  of  freedom  yet." 

"  Then  my  father,"  said  the  boy,  "  can  tell  you 
all  about  it,  for  he  is  an  officer  in  it." 

u  Then  how  came  he  here  ?  "  said  the  stranger, 
with  a  searching  glance. 

"  Why,  you  see,"  said  the  child,  with  much  sim 
plicity,  "  they  are  all  froze  up  ;  and  General  Wash 
ington  has  so  many  mouths  to  feed,  that  he  has  let 
some  go  home  ;  and  my  father  is  getting  all  the 
blankets,  and  clothes,  arid  things  for  them,  and  as 
many  as  he  can  to  go  and  help  fight  the  British.  Is 
not  that  good  ?  "  said  he,  clapping  his  hands  in 
exstasy. 

"  Yes,  I  think  it  is  good,  indeed,"  said  the  stran 
ger  ;  "  and  these  misses,  I  divine,  are  engaged  in  a 
labor  of  love,  clothing  the  destitute  soldiers." 

"  Yes,  that  they  are,"  said  the  little  Louis;  "  my 
mother,  grandmother,  and  the  girls,  have  sent  them 
already  a  dozen  thick  bedquilts,  twenty  pair  of 
stockings,  and  as  many  handkerchiefs,  shirts,  and 
jackets,  and  are  knitting  and  making  for  them  now, 
and  our  'quaintance  too." 

"  God  bless  them,"  said  the  stranger,  fervently  ; 
"  God  forever  bless  them  !  " 

The  supper  was  now  on  the  table,  and  the  dis 
course  for  the  present  suspended,  while  the  travel 
ler  was  seated  and  urged  to  partake  the  plentiful 
and  hospitable  meal.  It  was  not  long,  however, 


46 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 


before  Louis  stole  near  the  table,  and,  looking  up 
earnestly  in  the  face  of  the  stranger,  said, 

"  Eat  all  you  can,  poor  man,  we  have  plenty  ;  it 
aint  as  when  Boston  was  shut  up,  and  nobody  had 
enough  ;  eat  all  you  want,  monsieur/' 

The  sad  countenance  of  the  stranger  relaxed  a 
little  at  this  innocent  speech,  and  a  momentary 
smile  stole  over  his  careworn  face.  Ferdinand  in 
terfered,  and  threatened  to  send  the  little  chatter 
box  out  of  the  room  ;  but  the  traveller  begged  he 
would  not,  "  as  his  prattle  had  amused  him  very 
much,  and  beguiled  him  of  some  very  painful 
thoughts." 

After  the  meal,  the  poor  man  professed  himself 
much  refreshed,  and  taking  again  a  seat  by  the  fire, 
he  said,  "  I  owe  you  many  thanks,  my  friends,  and 
although  it  is  usual  for  a  stranger  to  give  some 
account  of  himself  first,  yet  you  will  excuse  me 
for  asking  a  few  questions,  as  I  think  from  your 
name,  you  are  some  of  the  Neutral  French." 

Ferdinand  assured  him  they  were  ;  that  they 
were  some  of  those  banished  from  the  district  of 
Minas. 

"  How  many  of  you  were  there  ?  "  inquired  the 
stranger.  Ferdinand  gave  the  desired  information. 

"  How  many  of  the  family  are  now  living  ?  " 

"  My  wife's  mother,  Madam  St.  Pierre,"  said 
Ferdinand,  "  three  sons  of  the  family,  two  of  whom 
are  married  and  settled  in  Philadelphia,  one  in  this 
town  ;  there  was  a  fourth  son,  indeed  he  was  the 
eldest,  that  was  lost  on  the  passage  there,  and  Pau 
line,  an  elder  daughter  went  there  ;  she  came  here 
alone  with  her  grandfather  first,  who  is  dead  ;  she 

married  the  Chevalier  D ,  and  my  wife,  who  is 

the  youngest  daughter :  besides  a  host  of  little 
ones,"  added  he,  smiling. 

"  The  father  of  my  wife,"  said  Ferdinand,  after 
a  pause,  "  was  left ;  he  emigrated  to  Canada,  as  we 


TUB    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  47 

supposed  ;  we  have  since  heard  he  was  lost  in  a 
French  vessel.  Our  mother,  however,  never  seem 
ed  willing  to  give  him  up  ;  she  mourns  for  him  to 
this  day."  Ferdinand  then  went  on  to  give  some 
account  of  the  other  families  of  their  district — of 
their  sufferings  on  the  voyage,  of  the  mortality  on 
board,  and  in  the  different  places  where  they  were 
scattered,  naming  over  several  families  that  were 
numerous  when  they  embarked,  and  were  now  to 
tally  extinct. 

The  stranger  could  bear  it  no  longer  ;  he  covered 
his  face,  and  sobbed  audibly.  "  Poor  man,"  thought 
Josephine.  "  he  has  doubtless  been  exiled  like  our 
selves,  either  from  Canada  or  from  that  fated  region 
we  were  driven  out  from,  and  lost  all  perhaps." 

"  Stranger,"  said  she,  involuntarily  drawing  near, 
and  bending  upon  him  the  most  commiserating 
looks,  "  1  am  grieved  to  witness  your  tears ;  mourn 
riot  as  those  who  have  no  hope  ;  we  are  but  stran 
gers  and  pilgrims  here  at  the  best ;  look  to  that 
great  and  good  Being  who  does  not  willingly  afflict, 
and  who  has  now  proved  that  in  conducting  us  to 
these  provinces,  though  by  a  way  that  we  knew 
not,  he  had  designs  of  mercy,  for  we  trust  in  God 
we  soon  shall  be  free  and  happy." 

The  soft,  sweet  voice  of  the  blooming  hostess, 
seemed  to  have  its  effect  in  stilling  the  tempest  of 
his  bosom,  for  his  tears  gradually  ceased  ;  and  when 
little  Louis  drew  near  again,  and  innocently  asked, 
"  Can't  I  do  something  for  you,  poor  man  ? "  he 
even  smiled,  though  it  was  evident  there  was  a 
choking  sensation  somewhere  about  the  region  of 
the  throat,  that  prevented  his  speaking.  At  length, 
making  a  great  effort,  he  looked  up  to  her  who  was 
bending  over  him  like  some  ministering  angel,  and, 
grasping  her  robe,  he  exclaimed,  with  convulsive 
energy, 

"  Josephine,  dost  thou  not  know  me  ?  " 


48  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

With  a  loud  shriek,  Josephine  fell  on  his  neck, 
exclaiming,  "  My  father  !  my  father  !  " 

The  scene  that  ensued,  may  be  better  imagined 
than  described.  The  startled  and  wondering  do 
mestics,  who  had  rushed  into  the  room  upon  hearing 
the  noise,  were  witnesses  of  the  overwhelming  joy 
of  the  meeting  between  these  long-parted  relatives, 
and  surely  there  was  not  a  dry  eye  on  the  spot. 
After  composure  had  been  in  some  measure  restored, 
a  consultation  was  held  how  to  break  it  to  Madam 
St.  Pierre.  She  slept  in  a  distant  part  of  the  house, 
and  it  was  presumed  had  heard  nothing  of  the  noise. 
Ferdinand  was  for  leaving  it  until  morning,  think 
ing  they  would  all  feel  more  composed  then  :  but 
to  this  Josephine  would  in  nowise  consent,  saying 
it  would  be  sinful  to  cheat  her  mother  out  of  one 
hour's  peace  of  mind,  which  she  believed  would  be 
effectually  restored  by  knowing  that  her  father  was 
alive  and  well,  and  under  the  same  roof  with  them. 
Accordingly,  Ferdinand,  who  was  the  most  compos 
ed  of  the  party,  was  commissioned  to  communicate 
it,  and  the  admirable  judgment  displayed  in  the 
manner  in  which  he  managed  the  disclosure/  proved 
he  was  competent  to  it. 

Knocking  quietly  at  Madam's  chamber-door,  he 
requested  her  to  rise  and  dress,  as  he  had  something 
to  communicate.  The  terror  of  the  times  was 
another  invasion  of  the  enemy  :  and  although  Mad 
am  felt  herself  tremble  some  when  she  rose,  yet  she 
had  so  much  of  the  heroine  left  as  to  despatch  her 
toilet  with  something  like  composure,  expecting 
every  moment  to  hear  the  bells  and  alarm-guns. 
Ferdinand  had  said  more  than  once,  "  that  he  never 
would  expose  his  family  again  in  a  captured  town, 
nor  a  beseiged  one." 

The  perfect  silence  that  reigned  throughout  the 
town,  save  as  the  watchful  sentinel  paced  his  rounds, 
and  occasionally  cried  "  all's  well,"  at  length  began 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  49 

to  reassure  her,  and  her  first  words  were,  as  she 
opened  the  chamber-door  to  her  son-in-law, 

"  Ferdinand,  I  should  think  it  a  false  alarm  : 
there  is  no  stir,  no  guns,  no  bells,  no  beating  to 
arms  ;  what  has  aroused  you  ?  " 

Ferdinand,  stepping  in,  took  her  hand,  and  seat 
ing  her  by  the  grate,  endeavored  to  prepare  her 
mind  for  some  great  news,  while  he  raked  open  the 
almost  exhausted  coals,  and  commenced  replenish 
ing  them.  At  length  he  told  her  they  had  just 
heard  her  husband  was  alive  in  France  ;  she  trem 
bled  violently,  but  said  "  she  did  not  believe  it,  she 
had  been  deceived  so  often  ;  "  and  then  added,  if 
he  had  been  alive,  he  would  not  have  neglected 
them  so  long  "  Ferdidand  argued, 

"  But  you  forget,  mother,  he  had  a  price  set  upon 
his  head  ;  how  could  he  come  here  ?  and;  in  addi 
tion  to  that,  he  may  have  been  deceived  by  a  report 
of  your  death,  as  you  have  been  about  his  ;  and  in 
fact  that  was  the  case,  as  his  letter  proves." 

"  His  letter!"  said  Madam;  "  then  he  is  alive, 
and  has  written  ;  let  me  see  it  this  moment,  I  should 
know  his  hand." 

Ferdinand  pretended  to  be  busily  fumbling  in  his 
pockets  ;  he  turned  first  one  inside  out,  and  then 
another,  uncertain  what  to  do  next.  At  length  he 
said,  with  a  smile, 

"  Have  you  firmness  to  hear  all  ?  "  She  looked 
earnestly  in  his  face,  and  read  a  confirmation  of  the 
truth  ;  when,  bursting  from  him,  she  flew  down 
stairs,  and  was  met  by  Louis  at  the  foot  of  them, 
and  fell  fainting  in  his  arms. 

We  will  not  stop  to  paint  the  remainder  of  this 
scene — to  tell  of  the  incoherent  questions  and  inau 
dible  answers  that  followed — of  the  joy  or  the 
amazement — of  the  wondering  little  ones,  &c.,  but 
briefly  state,  that  Louis  had  been  deceived  by  a 
report  that  reached  him  soon  after  the  banishment 


50  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

of  the  Acadians,  that  the  vessel  that  carried  his 
family  had  foundered,  and  every  soul  was  lost. 
How  such  a  report  reached  him.  and  the  whys  and 
the  wherefores,  will  be  given  in  the  narrative  of 
Louis,  which  occupies  the  next  chapter.  The  nar 
ration  consumed  several  of  those  long  winter  eve 
nings  that  Ferdinand  was  permitted  to  pass  with  his 
happy  family.  His  days  were  devoted  mostly  to 
the  drilling  of  raw  recruits  he  was  then  enlisting 
for  the  army,  and  whom  it  was  expected  he  would 
qualify  and  bring  on  with  him  to  whatever  point  he 
should  be  ordered  early  in  the  spring.  It  was  an 
arduous  duty,  for  it  was  devoid  of  that  excitement 
afforded  by  the  tented  field  ;  but  it  was  necessary, 
and  no  one  could  have  labored  more  patiently  than 
Ferdinand  ;  his  company  had  always  enjoyed  the 
reputation  of  being  exceedingly  well  trained,  and 
making  a  fine  appearance. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  interesting  to  the 
children  than  grandpapa's  narrative.  As  a  great 
indulgence,  they  were  always  permitted  to  sit  up 
until  nine,  while  it  was  narrating,  and  they  were 
never  wearied  with  it,  often  interrupting  by  their 
innocent  questions  and  many  a  kind  caress.  The 
old  man  felt  himself  domesticated  in  a  few  days. 
He  had  not  returned  to  them  poor,  exactly  ;  he  had 
managed,  while  in  the  French  service,  to  lay  up 
three  hundred  crowns,  a  large  sum  in  those  days. 
When  he  first  arrived  he  insisted  upon  joining  the 
American  army ;  but  Ferdinand  dissuaded  him? 
telling  him  "  he  had  seen  service  enough,  and  that 
it  was  now  time  he  should  rest ;  and,  further,  that 
his  presence  in  the  family  during  his  frequent  ab 
sence,  would  be  truly  grateful,  as  in  case  Boston 
were  invaded,  he  might  be  able  to  protect  them, 
and  look  them  a  place  of  safety."  This  last  argu 
ment  prevailed. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH,  51 

CHAPTER  VII. 

NARRATIVE    OF    LOUIS. 

"  Forced  from  their  homes,  a  melancholy  band, 
To  seek  the  den  where  snow-tracks  mark  the  way, 
And  winter,  lingering,  chills  the  lap  of  May." 

"  I  WILL  not,  my  dear  family,  give  you  the  his 
tory  of  my  journey  to  the  other  settlement,  where 
our  dear  friends  and  relations  lived  ;  suffice  it  to 
say,  I  had  to  go  by  by-paths,  and,  dogged  as  I  was. 
it  was  no  easy  matter  to  thread  the  thickets,  leap 
the  precipices,  and  breast  the  torrents  that  I  passed, 
before  I  reached  the  settlement.  1  found  a  compa 
ny  of  our  people  hid,  before  I  gained  it,  in  a  neigh 
boring  road  I  had  to  pass  ;  by  accident,  I  stumbled 
upon  an  advanced  guard  of  those  afflicted  families, 
and,  faint  and  weary,  was  conducted  to  the  fastness 
they  had  chosen  to  conceal  themselves  in,  with 
what  provision  they  could  bring  away,  and  some  of 
the  most  valuable  of  their  effects.  I  told  them  the 
story  of  your  wrongs,  and  exhorted  them  never  to 
give  themselves  up  alive. 

"  From  the  top  of  an  eminence  hard  by,  a  view 
could  be  obtained  of  the  settlement ;  and  when  the 
last  blow  was  struck,  namely,  burning  the  chapel,  it 
was  I  who  incited  them  to  resistance,  and  led  them 
on  with  crows,  pickaxes,  shovels,  scythes,  and 
whatever  came  to  hand,  to  rush  down  and  avenge 
the  deed.  How  many  of  the  enemy  we  left  upon 
the  ground  dead,  I  cannot  tell,  but  at  least  thirty, 
besides  many  wounded.  The  consternation  was  so 
great  among  the  English  at  this  unexpected  resist 
ance,  that  we  easily  regained  our  covert  before  we 
were  pursued  ;  and,  indeed,  the  enemy  gave  over 
pursuit  any  farther  than  the  entrance  of  the  forest, 
fearing  an  ambuscade.  From  our  mountain  heights, 
25 


52  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

we  discovered  them  drawing  off  the  men,  and  hold 
ing  a  consultation,  the  conclusion  of  which  was 
judged  to  be  to  retreat  for  the  present,  and  surround 
us  next  day  with  a  superior  force. 

Our  situation  might  have  been  occupied  with 
comfort  through  the  winter,  with  a  little  prepara 
tion,  but  prudence  forbade  our  tarrying  another 
night ;  and  the  shades  of  evening  had  no  sooner 
fallen,  than  we  commenced  our  wearisome  journey 
towards  a  place  where  some  of  the  company  had 
formerly  been  to  trade  with  the  savages.  The 
travels  of  that  night  were  dreadful ;  many  a  mother 
had  to  carry  two  children,  for  the  fathers  were  gen 
erally  loaded  with  provisions,  blankets,  clothing,  &c. 

For  my  own  part,  I  never  suffered  more  fatigue ; 
the  way  was  very  bad,  and  I  employed  myself  in 
assisting  the  females,  and  occasionally  relieving 
them  of  their  burdens.  Now  and  then,  for  some 
distance,  a  ray  of  light  would  flash  from  the  still 
burning  buildings  across  our  path,  but  we  soon  got 
out  of  the  light  of  it.  There  had  recently  been  a 
heavy  rain,  which  had  made  the  way  slippery  and 
dangerous,  and  it  was  often  with  difficulty  we  could 
stifle  the  cries  and  sobs  of  the  sleepy  arid  hungry 
children,  whom  we  dared  riot  stop  to  feed  until  we 
should  have  gained  our  retreat. 

"  When  we  approached  the  fastness,  we  were 
met  by  three  savages,  whom  the  people  of  the  set 
tlement  knew,  they  having  often  been  there  to 
trade  ;  they  at  once  recognised  some  of  the  party, 
and  when  informed  of  our  grievances,  protested  they 
would  avenge  them.  We  informed  them  of  the 
number  of  our  foes,  and  assured  them  they  could 
do  nothing  for  us,  unless  it  was  to  assist  us  to  our 
place  of  safety. 

"  The  interior  of  the  place  chosen  for  our  con 
cealment  was  now  soon  attained  ;  it  was  a  hollow 
square,  surrounded  by  high,  rocky  precipices  on 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  53 

every  side  ;  a  gap,  nearly  filled  with  stones,  was 
the  only  place  of  entrance,  and  that  only  admitted 
one  at  a  time.  It  was,  too,  by  great  scrambling 
that  we  attained  it.  The  inside  was  filled  up  with 
trees  and  bushes,  sufficient  to  hide  us,  so  that,  ten 
to  one,  if  an  enemy  should  chance  to  look  over  our 
ramparts,  they  would  not  have  discovered  us.  With 
the  help  of  our  red  friends,  we  continued  to  improve 
the  places  already  scooped  beneath  the  overhanging 
cliffs,  and  to  form  couches  of  the  dried  leaves  of 
the  forest.  A  beautiful  spring  of  water  trickled 
down  the  -rocks  on  one  side,  and,  winding  among 
the  stones  at  the  bottom,  discharged  itself  through 
the  crooked  gap  of  the  entrance. 

"  The  red  men  determined  to  go  on  next  day, 
and  see  what  had  become  of  our  stock,  &c.  Know 
ing  as  they  did  every  avenue  to  the  settlement, 
they  believed  they  could  manage  to  elude  the  ene 
my,  and  bring  away  some  of  the  spoil,  and  in 
truth  they  effected  this,  and  came  laden  with  pro 
visions  ;  but  cautioned  us  on  their  return  not  to 
stir  abroad,  as  the  soldiers  of  the  King  were  in  our 
immediate  neighborhood.  How  they  managed  to 
elude  them,  none  but  an  Indian  can  tell.  We  be 
sought  them  to  remain  with  us  a  few  days,  while 
our  women  should  cook  for  them,  and  make  them 
comfortable  as  possible.  You  recollect  the  bloom 
ing  families  of  our  cousins,  Joseph  and  Bertrand  ; 
each  buried  two  children,  ere  we  had  been  there 
many  days  ;  the  hardships  we  had  encountered, 
and  the  damp  lodgings  on  our  beds  of  leaves,  was 
undoubtedly  the  cause.  We  dug  their  graves  just 
without  our  camp  ;  alas  !  this  was  the  beginning  of 
troubles. 

"  Our  savage  friends  left  us  in  a  few  days,  caution 
ing  us  not  to  make  an  attempt  to  gain  the  St.  Law 
rence,  as  the  way  was  beset  with  so  many  dangers, 
but  to  remain  where  we  were  through  the  approach- 


54  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

ing  winter,  if  possible,  and  early  in  the  spring  to 
endeavor  to  gain  Lower  Canada  by  the  way  of  the 
St.  John.  The  advice  was  bad,  as  we  afterwards 
learnt ;  as  if  we  had  been  on  that  side,  we  should 
have  been  taken  off  most  probably  by  persons  des 
patched  by  the  Governor  of  Quebec  for  that  pur 
pose. 

"  The  approaching  season  warned  us  to  prepare 
for  winter,  and  various  consultations  were  held 
about  remaining  where  we  were ;  but  as  it  was 
evident  the  health  of  our  company  suffered  greatly 
from  the  extreme  dampness  of  the  place,  the  idea 
of  remaining  was  discarded,  and  we  resolved  to 
push  forward,  and  once  more  commenced  our  wea 
risome  march. 

"  Spare  me  the  recital  of  all  we  endured,  before 
we  gained  the  neighborhood  of  the  St.  John.  I 
have  seen  the  anguished  mother  bending  over  her 
dying  infant,  without  a  shelter  from  the  cold  dews 
of  night ;  I  have  seen  her  give  it  up  within  one 
hour  to  the  grave,  and,  giving  one  last  look  of  an 
guish,  take  up  the  next  and  travel  on. 

"  I  have  seen  the  beautiful  maiden  withering  with 
burning  fever,  with  nothing  but  the  massy  rock  for 
her  bed,  and  the  helpless  arms  of  a  feeble  mother 
to  support  her,  yield  her  expiring  sigh  in  a  desert. 
I  have  seen  the  young  and  promising  family  of  a 
dear  friend  all  drowned  by  my  side,  without  the 
power  to  help  them,  by  the  upsetting  of  a  canoe  ; 
but  never  have  I  seen  any  thing  that  has  wrung 
my  heart,  since  I  left  our  blazing  habitations,  like 
the  marriage  of  some  of  the  most  beautiful  of  our 
young  girls  with  the  sons  of  an  Indian  chief. 

"  '  It  is   the  will  of  God,'   said  the  pale  Maria 

S and  Madeline  D ,  on  the  morning  of  their 

mournful  nuptials  ;  '  it  is  my  friend,  the  will  of 
God  !  Our  widowed  mothers  can  go  no  farther  ; 
our  fathers  are  dead,  and  our  brethren  carried  into 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  55 

captivity  ;  our  little  brothers  and  sisters  need  a  home 
and  protector ;  and  these  generous  men  have  tended 
us  many  a  wearisome  day,  hunted  for  our  food,  and 
bore  our  fainting  forms  in  their  arms  when  we  had 
no  power  or  strength  to  proceed  on  our  journey. 
Alas  !  dear  friends,  how  otherwise  can  we  reward 
them  ?  and  what  better  have  we  to  look  forward  to 
in  this  world  ? ' 

"  We  could  oifer  no  objections  ;  we  could  only 
sob  out  an  adieu  to  these  youthful  martyrs.  We 
left  them  at  the  Indian  town  a  little  above  the 
mouth  of  the  St.  John.  The  swarthy  bridegrooms 
were  professed  Christians,  after  the  Catholic  order, 
and,  through  means  of  their  frequent  intercourse 
with  the  French,  about  half  civilized  ;  their  habi 
tations,  too,  were  more  tolerable  than  the  wigwams 
of  the  Indians  generally  are  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt 
they  became  more  tenantable  through  means  of  the 
suggestions  of  the  new  inmates.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
I  left,  them  with  a  pang  I  hope  riever  to  feel  again. 
Oh,  God !  how  fervently  I  prayed,  '  that  come  what 
might  to  my  dear  family,  they  might  never  share 
such  a  lot.'  * 


*  A  few  miles  above  Frederick  ton,  which,  it  will  be  recollected, 
is  about  twenty  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  St.  John,  and  is  now 
the  seat  of  government  for  the  province  of  Nova  Scotia,  there  is  a 
very  beautiful  little  settlement,  which  I  think  is  called  French- 
town.  It  is  inhabited  by  a  mixed  race  of  French  and  Indians  ;  it 
is  difficult  to  tell  which  blood  predominates.  Their  habitations  are 
simple,  resembling  those  of  the  Narragansetts  of  Rhode  Island,  at 
the  present  day  ,  but  the  appearance  of  the  people  is  infinitely 
superior,  and  their  grounds  laid  out  with  much  more  method  and 
taste.  The  situation  is  delightful  in  the  extreme,  being  on  a  very 
high  ground  that  overlooks  the  St.  John's  river,  and  a  number  of 
beautiful  little  islands.  Another  river  discharges  itself  into  the  St. 
John,  immediately  opposite  this  settlement,  forming  one  of  the 
most  graceful  sweeps.  The  settlement  is  scattered  aiound  the 
bank  and  to  the  highest  point  of  the  hill.  The  deep  green  of  the 
turf  is  finely  contrasted  by  the  roads  and  pathf,  the  soil  being 
impregnated  with  a  bright  red  soft  stone,  that  gives  the  landscape 
someth  ng  of  a  Salvator  Rosa  tinge. 

There  is  another  settlement  about  sixty  miles  farther  down  the 
25* 


56  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

"  We  departed  from  the  friendly  Indians  with 
many  sad  forebodings,  and  with  diminished  num 
bers.  We  would  paddle  as  far  up  the  river  as  pos 
sible,  whenever  we  could  do  so  with  safety,  and 
seek  a  resting-place  at  night  on  shore.  It  was  hard 
work  stemming  the  current  of  this  rapid  river,  and 
the  weather  was  now  become  quite  cold. 

"  On  one  occasion,  when  we  had  gone  on  shore 
for  the  night,  and  prepared  our  wretched  lodging- 
place,  kindled  a  fire,  &c.,  we  were  much  alarmed 
by  the  entrance  of  three  British  soldiers  ;  but  they 
immediately  quieted  our  fears,  by  telling  us  they 
were  British  deserters,  and  consequently  could  not 
betray  us.  One  of  them  had  shot  a  fat  doe,  which 
he  begged  to  dress  and  cook  at  our  fire,  and  invited 
us  to  partake  of  it.  They  had  deserted  from  a  post 
in  our  old  neighborhood,  and  were  able  to  furnish 
us  with  some  valuable  information  ;  but  how  they 
became  possessed  with  the  notion  that  one  of  the 
transports  was  wrecked  in  sight  of  land,  that  con 
veyed  our  friends  to  the  provinces,  I  cannot  tell  ; 

river,  which  seems  to  be  quite  Indian,  on  a  little  island  in  its  neigh 
borhood.  The  wigwams  are  entirely  Indian  fashion,  with  oval 
tops  and  low  entrances,  and  look  as  though  a  person  could  not 
stand  upright  in  them.  The  Indians  were  dodging  in  and  out,  as 
we  passed  within  a  few  paces  of  their  doors  in  the  steamboat.  In 
the  former  village,  saw  several  very  pretty  half-Indian  girls,  dress 
ed  in  tolerable  taste,  and  chattering  in  French.  The  females  in 
this  region  paddle  their  canoes  about  without  any  fear,  often  in 
only  a  hollow  log,  called  a  "  Dug-out."  Standing  up  with  a  large 
straw  hat,  confined  to  the  head  by  a  narrow  black  string  passing 
from  the  crown  under  the  chin,  the  large  brim  standing  out  straight, 
offering  but  little  protection  against  sun  or  wind,  they  aro  odd 
figures  enough.  In  this  guise,  they  will  shoot  a  canoe  through  the 
rapids  of  the  St.  John  with  inimitable  dexterity,  and  with  as  much 
ease  as  a  boy  would  manage  a  wheelbarrow.  There  is  a  melan 
choly  interest  attached  to  these  poor  half-casts  in  the  minds  of 
reflecting  persons,  when  we  think  of  their  origin,  as  most  of  them 
are  the  descendants  of  wretched  Acadian  mothers,  who  threw 
themselves  into  the  arms  of  savages  to  escape  a  worse  fate.  We 
can  conceive  little  at  this  day  of  the  extremity  of  misery  to  which 
a  white  woman  must  be  reduced,  to  drive  her  to  such  an  alterna 
tive. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  5? 

however,  they  said  so,  and  that  my  family  was  in 
it,  as  they  recollected  the  name,  and  that  the  last 
persons  seen,  as  she  went  down,  weie  my  eldest 
daughter  supporting  an  aged  blind  man,  whom  I  at 
once  recognised  as  my  venerable  father.  I  have 
since  learnt  there  was  a  violent  wind  the  night  the 
transports  sailed,  and  that  there  was  a  report  that 
one  of  them  capsized  in  the  squall.  I  did  not  then 
know  of  the.  refinement  in  cruelty  practised  in  sep 
arating  different  members  of  families  ;  had  I  been 
apprized  of  that.  I  should  still  have  thought  some 
of  you  might  be  alive,  and  even  the  price  set  upon 
my  head  would  not  have  prevented  my  seeking  you. 
I  have  never  believed  these  poor  soldiers  designedly 
misstated  this  thing.  It  was  the  last  thing  they 
heard  probably  as  they  came  away,  having  taken 
advantage  of  the  darkness  of  that  memorable  night 
to  make  their  escape. 

"  I  can  never  describe  my  feelings  at  the  astound 
ing  intelligence  ;  but  as  I  had  often  wished  we  had 
all  been  put  to  the  sword,  the  first  words  I  spoke 
were  to  thank  God  that  my  family  were  beyond 
the  oppressor.  I  then  swore  a  terrible  oath,  that  I 
would  never  cease  to  labor  in  obtaining  revenge — 
that  I  would  compass  sea  and  land  for  a  chance  to 
fight  the  foes  of  our  innocent  people — and  I  have 
kept  my  word  :  but  I  am  anticipating. 

"  The  soldiers,  upon  leaving  us,  took  their  course 
over  towards  the  St.  Croix  river,  hoping  to  disguise 
themselves  so  effectually  as  to  remain  in  the  New 
England  provinces  undiscovered.  We  supplied  them 
with  suits  of  old  clothes  in  exchange  for  their  own, 
which  completely  metamorphosed  them,  and  tried 
hard  to  purchase  their  guns,  which  they  were  very 
loth  to  part  with,  as  their  subsistence  might  depend 
upon  the  game  they  would  kill,  while  travelling 
through  that  lonely  country  ;  besides,  they  thought 
they  might  pass  for  hunters;  without  fear  of  detec- 


58  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

tion  ;  but  as  we  supplied  them  with  what  miserable 
apparatus  we  had  to  take  game,  and  as  the  guns 
were  marked  with  the  name  of  the  regiment  to 
which  they  belonged,  they  at  length  concluded  it 
was  best  to  part  with  them.  Our  own  plan  in  ob 
taining  possession  of  them  was,  in  case  we  were 
constrained  to  approach  any  English  settlement,  to 
dress  and  arm  three  of  our  men,  and  pass  them  off 
as  soldiers  guarding  the  rest.  What  the  success 
might  have  been  I  cannot  say,  as  circumstances  did 
not  compel  us  to  such  a  hazardous  undertaking. 
Our  arms,  however,  were  very  useful  in  shooting 
game,  and  the  St.  John's  river  abounded  with  beau 
tiful  salmon,  so  that  we  escaped  the  pangs  of  hunger. 

"About  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  above  the 
mouth  of  the  St.  John,  we  discovered  a  small  set 
tlement,  and  fearing  they  might  be  hostile,  resolved 
to  shun  it.  We  were  obliged  then  to  encamp  on 
the  shore,  hiding  our  canoes  in  the  bushes  until 
after  dark,  and  then  pass  it  in  the  night. 

"  Happily,  we  escaped  the  observation  of  the 
settlement ;  but  our  difficulties  multiplied,  for,  in 
addition  to  the  now  freezing  weather,  which  began 
to  congeal  the  waters  round  the  shores,  the  rapids 
commenced  just  above  there  very  frequent  •  and, 
after  a  long  consultation,  we  agreed  to  look  out  for 
a  resting-place  for  the  winter,  and  we  finally  select 
ed  a  secluded  spot  in  the  forest,  a  few  miles  from 
the  St.  John,  and  not  far  from  where  the  pretty 
little  stream,  called  the  river  De  Shute,  empties 
itsejf  into  that  river.  There  we  erected  temporary 
huts  in  the  best  manner  we  were  able,  joining  them 
all  together  in  such  a  manner  as  to  keep  each  other 
warm,  and  have  access  to  one  another  during  the 
deep  snows  that  fall  in  this  region.  Nature  had 
provided  this  beautiful  place  as  though  for  our  re 
ception. 

"  In  the  midst  of  a  dark  and  almost  impenetrable 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  59 

forest,  a  beautiful  grove  was  enclosed,  sloping  gen 
tly  to  the  south  ;  part  of  this  was  occupied  by  our 
habitations,  and  part  was  afterwards  obliged  to  be 
used  for  our  burial-place,  where  a  rude  cross  alone 
commemorated  the  virtues  of  our  friends  and  our 
loss,  the  mortality  this  winter  sweeping  off  a  num 
ber  of  our  company.  Alas  !  how  many  that  braved 
the  danger  thus  far,  and  even  assisted  to  prepare  our 
simple  habitations,  fell  victims  to  the  hardships  of 
this  winter.  The  weather  was  intensely  cold,  but 
ere  it  fairly  set  in,  we  succeeded  in  drying  a  quan 
tity  of  fish  and  game  ;  and  in  our  habitations,  which 
consisted  of  logs  and  lower  branches,  and  leaves 
mixed  with  clay,  we  hung  up  the  bear  and  other 
skins  we  could  procure,  to  keep  out  the  cold.  Our 
lamps  were  some  old  powder-horns,  filled*  with 
bears'  grease.  The  greatest  things  we  felt  the 
want  of  were  bread  and  milk,  two  articles  impossi 
ble  to  procure  ;  but  we  discovered  a  vegetable, 
which  we  called  the  wild  potato,  and  our  women 
selected  and  dried  such  roots  arid  herbs  as  could  be 
procured  so  late  in  the  season  to  dry. 

"  The  windows  of  our  huts  were  made  by  leav 
ing  a  hole  on  the  south  side  covered  with  a  white 
cloth,  which,  in  the  coldest  of  the  weather,  we 
were  obliged  to  stop  up  entirely,  and  light  our 
lamps. 

"  Could  the  memory  of  a  rooted  sorrow  have 
been  obliterated  from  my  brain,  1  believe  I  could 
have  enjoyed  myself  some  part  of  the  winter  toler 
ably  well  ;  as  it  was,  constant  employment  pre 
vented  the  indulgence  of  my  griefs.  As  I  had  no 
family  in  particular  to  provide  for,  I  acted  as  father 
for  the  whole." 

:J  What  could  you  find  to  do  for  them,  grandfa 
ther  ?  "  asked  little  Louis. 

"  Why,  I  hunted  sometimes  for  their  sustenance, 
and  when  within,  I  could  stop  chinks  in  the  build- 


60  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

ings  with  mud  and  clay,  with  which  I  made  a  com 
position,  and  made  various  improvements  in  the 
fireplaces,  which  were  only  at  first  kindled  in  the 
middle  of  the  hut,  with  a  hole  over  head  to  let  the 
smoke  escape  ;  and  I  made  the  important  discovery, 
that  smoke  would  go  out  as  well  through  a  small 
place,  if  it  had  a  conductor,  as  through  a  hole  big 
enough  for  a  bear  to  jump  through.  And  then  1 
contrived  wooden  hooks  to  hang  the  meat,  fish,  &c. 
on,  and  helped  them  draw  water  from  a  neighbor 
ing  spring,  except  in  the  case  of  deep  snowe,  when 
for  a  long  time  together  we  used  only  snow-water  ; 
and  in  making  paths  there  was  constant  employ, 
the  snow  being  often  up  to  the  tops  of  our  dwell 
ings,  and  we  had  frequently  to  go  up  through  our 
apology  for  a  chimney  to  begin  to  clear  it  away. 
The  former  part  of  the  day  each  family  was  busied 
within  itself,  but  the  latter  part  we  spent  together, 
when  we  would  discourse  of  our  trials,  form  plans 
for  the  future,  pray  for  those  who  had  been  carried 
away  captive,  and  at  parting  sing  a  song  of  praise. 
And  then  the  care  of  our  drooping  ones,  the  mourn 
ful  ceremony  of  interment  in  the  deep  snow,  for 
they  were  not  put  beneath  the  sod  until  spring. 

"  But  the  long  and  tedious  winter  at  length  wore 
away  ;  the  snows  melted,  the  frosts  left  the  ground, 
the  birds  began  to  sing,  and  the  wilderness  of  leaf 
less  trees  to  put  forth  their  buds.  And  now  the 
consultations  were  renewed  about  our  future  settle 
ment  and  subsistence  ;  some,  attached  to  the  spot 
by  the  memory  of  buried  friends,  wished  to  remain 
here,  but  there  were  insuperable  objections ;  some 
were  determined  to  travel  to  Canada ;  others  wish 
ed  to  attain  a  place  described  by  the  Indians,  some 
hundred  miles  farther  up,  where  there  were  rich 
bottom  lands,  and  had  formerly  been  a  settlement 
of  that  wandering  people. 

u  The  land  where  we  were  was  broken  and  une- 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  61 

ven,  too  far  from  the  river,  and  too  near  our  ene 
mies.*  The  great  object  of  stopping  short  of  Can 
ada,  was  to  form  a  rallying  point  for  those  of  our 
countrymen  who  should  have  escaped  our  enemies, 
and  who  would  undoubtedly  travel  that  way. 

"  Accordingly,  in  the  month  of  May,  we  departed 
from  our  winter's  home  ;  many  tears  were  shed 
upon  taking  leave  of  the  spot  that  contained  the 
remains  of  our  friends  ;  some  of  our  venerable  fa 
thers,  and  many  a  mother's  hope,  lay  there.  With 


*  In  the  place  described  here,  there  are  a  number  of  graves  still 
to  be  seen  ;  some  of  the  rude  crosses  are  still  entire,  others  rotting 
on  the  ground.  There  is  a  tradition  that  a  British  regiment  was 
disbanded  here  at  the  expiration  of  the  old  war  ;  and  it  has  been  sug 
gested  that  the  graves  might  be  accounted  for  by  eupposing  there 
might  have  been  an  encampment  of  them  for  some  time  in  the 
neighborhood.  This  cannot  be,  as  American  or  English  soldiers 
never  use  this  emblem  at  the  graves  of  their  friends.  They  must 
have  been  placed  there  by  Catholics.  It  is  singular  that  no  me- 
menio  of  human  habitation  exists  there  except  these  graves.  *  oa 
pass  many  miles  on  this  river,  without  coming  near  a  human  habi 
tation.  The  author  of  this,  visited  that  region  in  the  summer  of 
1839,  and  found  the  difficulties  of  travelling  very  great.  The  only 
stage  that  passes  here  is  a  two-horse  wagon,  twice  a  week,  carrying 
the  overland  mail  from  Frederickton  to  Quebec,  about  three  hun 
dred  miles.  The  road  from  Woodstock  to  the  grand  falls  of  the 
St.  John,  ia  so  bad  that  travellers  have  often  to  alight  and  walk 
through  the  deep  gaps  between  the  hills.  The  few  and  far  between 
habitations  are  generally  tenanted  by  the  old  disbanded  soldiers  of 
the  British  army,  who  receive  their  land  as  a  bounty  after  the 
tcrrn  of  service  has  expired.  I  asked  one  of  these  old  men  "  how 
long  he  served  ?"  he  said,  "  twenty  years  ;  principally  in  the  East 
and  West  Indies."  (What  a  change  from  the  burning  clime  of 
India.)  He  said  he  had  his  choice,  a  hundred  of  acres  of  land 
there,  or  fifty  crowns  ;  that  he  chose  the  former,  and  had  never 
repented  it.  As  might  be  expected,  they  make  very  indifferent 
farmers.  The  females,  in  this  desolate  region,  are  much  the  most 
intelligent ;  they  are  very  near  the  disputed  territory,  only  a  few 
miles ;  and  during  the  late  boundary  troubles,  some  of  them  told 
me  they  prayed  incessantly  they  might  chance  to  come  under  the 
States,  for,  in  that  case,  something  they  knew  would  be  done  for 
the  improvement  of  the  country — that  the  vast  difference  in  im- 
provement,  as  soon  as  you  crossed  the  border,  was  the  topic  of 
discourse  to  every  one  who  ever  crossed  it — that  the  English  took 
no  pains  to  improve  the  country — that  they  only  stripped  it  of 
timber,  and  then  left  it  to  poverty  and  wretchedness. 


62  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

much  difficulty,  we  again  took  up  our  line  of  march 
to  the  river ;  then  embarking  in  our  canoes,  we 
avoided  the  rapids  generally,  by  keeping  very  near 
shore ;  the  rapidity  of  the  current,  and  other  hin 
drances,  prevented  our  making  very  good  progress. 

"  A  few  miles  up  we  came  very  near  being 
swamped,  the  eddies  in  the  river  whirling  our  little 
barks  round  and  round  like  something  crazy.  Some 
difficulty  we  had  near  the  mouth  of  a  large  river 
that  discharges  itself  into  the  St.  John  with  great 
force  on  the  left,  on  the  second  day  of  our  voyage, 
as  also  from  passing  the  mouth  of  one  on  the  right, 
a  little  lower  down,  a  counter  current  setting  in  in 
those  places.  (These  must  have  been  the  Arostook 
on  the  left,  as  you  ascend,  and  the  Tobique  on  the 
other.)  However,  after  a  few  evolutions,  we  at 
length  got  on  our  way,  and  proceeded  on  our  voy 
age. 

"  The  last  day  of  our  voyage  up  this  river,  all 
seemed  to  go  well  ;  the  beautiful  highlands  were 
visible  on  the  right,  and  forests  of  lofty  oak  on  the 
left,  superior  in  height  and  beauty  to  any  I  had 
ever  seen.  At  length  the  banks  began  to  rise  on 
each  side,  and  to  assume  quite  a  new  appearance, 
the  most  wild  and  romantic  scenery  was  on  every 
side.  To  our  left,  there  was  a  little  creek  or  cove 
with  pebbly  shore,  and,  taking  a  sweep  to  the  right, 
the  river  was  then  compressed  between  two  high, 
rocky  cliffs,  that  looked  as  though  they  had  been 
split  asunder  by  some  great  convulsion  of  nature. 
So  dark  and  frowning  was  the  aperture,  that  some 
of  our  company  even  remonstrated  upon  entering 
it,  and  as  night  was  approaching,  thought  we  had 
better  put  ashore  at  the  little  cove.  Anxious,  how 
ever,  to  go  as  far  as  possible,  the  majority  decided 
upon  going  on,  thinking  that  the  river  would  widen, 
and  we  should  soon  get  out  of  this  confined  pass. 
As  we  entered  it,  however,  which  we  did  with 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  G3 

some  difficulty,  owing  to  the  increased  rapidity  of 
the  current,  we  observed  the  frowning  cliffs  must 
rise  on  each  side  some  hundred  feet,  and  to  say 
truth,  there  was  not  one  of  us  but  repented,  and 
wished  we  had  heard  to  the  females ;  but  shame 
prevented  our  acknowledging  it.  It  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  we  managed  to  steady  the  canoes', 
or  to  force  them  along. 

"  There  were  no  females  in  the  canoe  with  me, 
only  one  man  and  baggage.  Suddenly,  at  a  turn 
in  the  rock,  the  astounding  roar  of  a  water-fall  burst 
upon  our  ears  ;  there  was  no  mistaking  it,  the  white 
foam  was  rushing  towards  us,  threatening  to  engulf 
us  in  a  watery  grave.  The  crookedness  of  the 
passage  prevented  our  seeing  the  fall,  but  we  could 
have  no  doubt  wfrere  we  were,  and  we  had  now 
arrived  at  a  point  where  the  light  of  day  seemed 
almost,  excluded  ;  the  stream  was  much  narrower, 
and  the  wall  of  dark  rock  higher. 

11  By  the  greatest  presence  of  mind,  my  compan 
ion  immediately  made  signals  for  the  other  canoes 
to  turn  back  :  he  was  understood,  and  we  turned 
also. 

"  It  is  to  this  hour  a  mystery  how  we  got  out 
alive  ;  but  on  we  went  like  lightning,  the  force  of 
the  current  carrying  us  back  with  such  rapidity, 
that,  even  after  we  emerged  from  the  gulf,  we 
could  not  stop  ourselves  for  some  time. 

"  After  regaining  our  track,  and  recovering  our 
selves  in  some  sort  from  our  terror,  we  made  the 
little  cove  before  described.  It  was  at  the  foot  of 
an  almost  inaccessible  hill,  but  to  us  it  looked  a 
perfect  elysium.  The  shades  of  evening  were  fast 
closing  around,  and  looking  out  a  favorable  position 
sheltered  from  the  winds,  we  kindled  our  fire  and 
made  preparations  for  spending  the  night  there  ; 
but,  first  of  all,  fell  on  our  knees  and  devoutly  re 
turned  thanks  for  our  wonderful  preservation :  never 
26 


64  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

had  we  felt  our  lives  to  be  of  so  much  importance 
since  our  exile. 

"  With  the  help  of  a  few  bear-skins,  &c.,  we 
lodged  upon  the  cold  ground  ;  but  this  night  we 
felt  it  not,  so  delightful  was  the  feeling  of  security 
after  the  imminent  danger  we  had  been  exposed 
to  ;  and  when  the  bright  beams  of  the  morning 
sun  awoke  us  to  consciousness  again,  we  arose 
with  renewed  hopes  that  he  who  had  conducted 
us  through  so  many  and  great  dangers,  was  not 
reserving  us  for  captivity,  but  would  in  the  end 
conduct  us  to  a  peaceful  haven,  and  permit  the 
residue  of  our  days  to  be  spent  in  peace.  I  speak 
of  my  companion's  hopes  ;  for  myself,  I  had  chalk 
ed  out  a  different  course.  Their  home  was  nearer 
than  they  thought  for. 

"  After  a  hearty  meal  of  such  things  as  we  had, 
we  proceeded  to  explore  the  neighborhood  Provi 
dence  had  conducted  us ;  and  leaving  the  most  of 
the  females  to  take  care  of  the  aged  and  little 
ones,  we  ascended  the  high  and  steep  bank,  which, 
covered  with  timber  and  underwood,  was  no  easy 
task.  Arrived  at  the  top,  the  impervious  forest  lay 
on  each  side,  preventing  our  seeing  our  situation, 
and  it  was  impossible  to  judge,  except  from  what 
we  recollected  of  the  bend  of  the  river,  which  we 
felt  persuaded  we  should  find  in  a  straightforward 
course.  After  proceeding  a  mile  or  two,  admiring 
the  increased  fertility  of  the  soil,  the  noise  of  the 
water-fall  again  broke  on  our  ear  ;  and,  rushing  to 
the  edge  of  the  bank,  we  found  ourselves  trans 
fixed  by  an  involuntary  awe — the  scene  was  one 
of  indescribable  beauty. 

"  To  the  left,  the  broad  and  beautiful  cove  lay 
stretched  at  our  feet ;  beyond  it,  for  a  mile  or  two, 
we  had  a  view  of  the  course  of  the  river,  and  its 
shelving  and  thickly-wooded  banks  ;  by  a  sudden 
curve  of  the  river,  the  prospect  beyond  was  hid. 


THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH.  65 

To  the  ,right  of  the  beautiful  cove,  the  river  nar 
rowed,  suddenly  increasing  in  velocity  as  it  ap 
proached  the  gulf ;  it  seemed  to  gather  itself  into  a 
narrow  space  to  make  the  plunge  down  the  rugged 
rock,  the  leap  being  about  seventy-five  feet,  into 
the  narrow  and  deep  channel  we  had  entered  on  the 
preceding  evening.  It  is  said  to  fall  an  equal  num 
ber  in  the  rapids  below,  before  it  reaches  the  point 
at- which  we  saw  it.  The  mighty  cataract,  foaming 
and  roaring,  and  tossing  its  white  spray  high  in  the 
air,  was  surrounded  by  woody  heights,  and  on  its 
margin  the  trees  dipped  their  branches  in  its  spark 
ling  waters.  This  was  the  upper  or  grand  falls  of 
the  St.  John.  The  beautiful  little  sheltered  cove 
above,  was  finely  contrasted  by  the  deep  and  dark 
channel  below,  while,  over  the  cataract,  the  morn 
ing  sun  exhaling  the  vapors,  exhibited  a  bright  and 
beautiful  rainbow  that  spanned  the  torrent  of  waters. 
The  mist  was  fast  rolling  pff  the  river,  the  trees 
bursting  into  bloom,  and  the  feathered  warblers 
singing  in  their  branches. 

"  One  of  our  company,  who  always  wore  a  horn 
suspended  at  his  waist,  (a  precaution  used  by  us  in 
hunting,  to  give  each  other  notice  of  the  direction 
we  had  taken,)  lifted  it  to  his  lips,  and  blew  a  loud 
and  prolonged  blast,  awakening  the  sleeping  echoes 
of  the  woods  and  rocks. 

"  It  seemed  as  though  a  thousand  spirits  answer 
ed  from  their  caves,  and  such  was  our  delight  at  the 
effect  that  no  one  could  reprove  the  boldness  of  the 
deed  ;  besides,  had  we  not  got  beyond  human  hab 
itations  ?  Another  and  another  blast  succeeded  ; 
when,  lo  !  parting  the  bushes  from  before  him,  at 
one  bound  a  human  figure,  a  son  of  the  forest, 
sprang  through,  and,  stepping  out  on  a  projecting 
rock  on  the  other  side  of  the- cataract,  exhibited  his 
majestic  person  ;  and  in  truth  never  had  I  seen  any 


66  THE    NEUTRAL    FRI 

thing  that  to  my  view  resembled  majesty  so  much 
as  the  figure  now  before  me. 

••  H  _:i  o'er  the  ample  forehead,  waved  the  tuft 
of  many-colored  plumes  :  his  arms  and  legs  were 
ornamented  with  gold  and  silver  bracelets  that  glit 
tered  in  the  sun  :  while  his  mantle  of  skins,  a  fortune 
aim  .onfined  at  the  neck  by  a  broad  belt  of 

wampum  :    another,  round  his  w  I   to  the 

ankle.  A  bunch  of  arrows  was  fastened  to  -his 
back,  and  from  beneath  his  mantle  peeped  the  head 
of  the  deadly  tomahawk  and  the  handle  of  the 
scalping-kniie.  The  bow  was  in  his  hand,  and  one 
mor-casined  foot,  advanced  a  little  forward,  rested 
on  the  very  verge  of  the  precipice.  Unmoved,  un- 
awed  by  the  rushing  waters  that  foamed  and  dashed 
beneath,  he  looked  like  some  fine  statue,  fresh  from 
the  sculptor's  hand.  Indeed,  had  he  been  chiselled 
from  the  solid  rock,  he  could  not  have  appeared 
more  immovable. 

^  Methinks  I  see  him  yet,  the  stately. 
savage,  he  who.  in  after  times,  goaded  on  by  the 
injuries  of  his  people,  avenged  himself  by  the  pro 
miscuous  slaughter  of  infant  innocence,  youth,  and 
age.  and  offered  to  the  manes  of  his  slaughtered 
and  betrayed  friends,  whole  hecatombs  of  victims. 
There  he  stood,  majestic  in  the  wilderness  and  si 
lence  of  nature,  his  eagle  eye  alone  givins  signs  of 
the  parting  lip.  the  lifted  hand,  the  advanced 
foot,  one  might  almost  have  supposed  him  just 
struck  into  existence,  and  gazing  upon  this  our 
world  for  the  first  time. 

•£  Fortunately.  I  was  partially  acquainted  with 
the  language  of  the  tribe  to  which  he  belonged,  or 
rather  of  the  tribe  that  belonged  to  him.  for  Kehow- 
ret  was  a  sagamore  or  chief,  a  prince  of  the  Abe- 
uaquis  nation.  I  had  often  heard  of  his  exploits, 
but  knew  him  not.  To  speak  across  the  faK 
as  to  make  ourselves  heard,  was  impossible  :  but. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  67 

acquainted  with  the  modes  of  Indian  salutation, 
we  succeeded  in  making  ourselves  understood. 
The  figure  of  the  chief,  however,  continued  im 
movable  until  we  providentially  bethought  our 
selves  of  the  sign  of  the  cross. 

"  Btessed,  thrice  blessed  emblem  of  our  crucified 
Redeemer  !  to  the  Jews  a  stumbling-block,  and  to 
the  Greeks  foolishness,  but  recognised  in  every  land 
where  the  name  of  Jesus  has  been  proclaimed,  ope 
rating  as  though  by  magic  upon  the  most  rugged  as 
well  as  the  gentlest  natures,  taming  the  fierce  savage 
and  softening  the  barbarian. 

"  The  symbol  of  a  kindred  faith  was  recognised, 
and.  darting  back  among  the  trees,  our  red  friend 
shortly  appeared  again  on  the  shore,  a  little  above, 
with  his  bark  canoe  on  his  shoulder.  To  launch 
the  little  frigate,  seize  his  paddle,  and  skim  across, 
was  the  work  of  a  moment ;  and  when,  upon  land 
ing,  he  was  made  acquainted  with  our  condition, 
our  exile,  and  our  sufferings,  his  eyes  glared  with 
deadly  resentment,  and  he  vowed  a  revenge  which 
too  surely,  I  fear,  he  has  accomplished,  and  that  the 
blood  of  innocence  has  more  than  once  flowed  for 
our  wrongs. 

"  The  meeting  with  the  chief  was  the  turning 
point  in  the  destiny  of  our  exiles.  By  him  we 
were  advised  to  stop  on  the  banks  of  the  river, 
some  thirty  or  forty  miles  above,  and  try  to  effect  a 
settlement.  He  assured  us  that  the  foot  of  a  white 
man  had  never  cursed  the  soil,  and  that  we  should 
be  perfectly  secure  from  discovery,  and  as  the  lands 
were  good,  could  soon  obtain  a  comfortable  support. 

"  We  conducted  him  to  our  encampment,  and 
gave  him  of  such  food  as  we  had  to  eat,  and  he  in 
return,  assisted  us  in  repairing  our  cano6s,  which 
had  been  much  damaged  in  our  perilous  proximity 
to  the  falls  the  evening  before.  Carrying  them  across 
the  plat  just  described,  we  again  embarked,  pushing 
26* 


68  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH, 

off  from  the  little  cove  just  above  the  cataract,  and 
took  our  course  up  stream  again.  Towards  night  we 
came  upon  the  encampment  of  the  chiefs  people, 
and  most  welcome  was  the  curling  smoke  above  the 
top  of  the  forest,  to  our  chilled  and  weary  company. 
Hauling  up  to  the  bank,  we  landed  our  company, 
and  were  received  with  that  silent  but  cordial  wel 
come,  that  Indians  alone,  of  all  the  earth,  know 
how  to  give.  One  totally  unacquainted  with  their 
ways,  would  not  know  their  quiet  welcome.  The 
best  skins  were  spread,  and  the  best  preparations 
made  to  promote  our  comfort. 

"  One  of  the  old  men,  after  we  were  seated,  re 
cognised  me  ;  he  had  visited  our  country  in  his 
trading  expeditions,  several  times,  and  had  been  in 
my  house  j  he  asked  me  '  where  squaw  and  pap- 
pooses  were  ? '  The  shock  was  more  than  I  could 
bear  with  fortitude,  and  I  covered  my  face  with  my 
hands,  and  sobbed  aloud.  The  chief,  in  a  few 
words,  related  the  fate  of  our  people,  and  our  own 
escape.  The  confusion  for  a  few  moments  was  ter 
rible  ;  knives  and  tomahawks  were  brandished,  and 
many  horrible  gesticulations  exhibited,  threatening 
vengeance  upon  the  f  Yangeese.' 

"  We  soon  discovered  our  red  friends  were  about 
to  leave  this  station  for  a  better  hunting-ground  ; 
and  finding  the  lands  good,  and  feeling  great  secu 
rity  from  the  interruption  of  water  communication 
between  us  and  our  dreaded  foes,  our  people  con 
cluded  to  remain  where  they  were,  and  take  up  our 
residence,  at  least  for  the  present,  on  the  banks  of 
the  river.  And  here,  supposing  my  beloved  family 
at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  I  stayed  the  first  two 
seasons,  assisting  our  people  to  construct  their  hous 
es,  to  plant  and  reap  their  fields,  and  to  perform 
such  acts  of  necessity  and  humanity  as  their  situa 
tion  in  this  wilderness  required.  My  knowledge  of 
the  arts  of  husbandry  and  of  mechanics  was,  with- 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  f>9 

out  boasting,  better  than  most  of  them.  Fortu 
nately,  we  had  some  grain  we  had  carefully  hoarded 
at  our  flight,  and  reserved  for  this  very  purpose  : 
and  other  things  we  needed,  we  bargained  with  the 
Indians  to  procure  us,  without  betraying  our  place 
of  abode.  We  planted,  and  the  virgin  soil  yielded 
its  treasures  most  abundantly.  Our  huts  were  most 
ingeniously  hid  from  observation,  and  every  method 
contrived  and  artifice  resorted  to,  to  shield  us  from 
sight  should  any  of  our  foes  ascend  the  river. 

11  Could  the  fate  of  our  countrymen  and  our  best 
friends  have  been  forgotten,  we  might  have  felt 
happy  ;  as  it  was,  they  were  contented,  all  but  one  ; 
but  the  restlessness  of  misery  haunted  me.  I  could 
not  remain  in  quiet,  and  determined  at  length  to 
find  my  way  to  Canada,  and  offer  rny  services  to 
Villabon,  at  Quebec,  whom  we  learnt  by  the  occa 
sional  visits  of  the  Indians,  was  hard  pressed. 

"  Guided  by  some  of  our  red  friends,  I  reached, 
after  a  toilsome  journey,  the  desired  haven,  and 
immediately  volunteered  to  fight  the  battles  of  my 
countrymen.  Since  that  time  I  have  sought  death 
in  the  heat  of  the  fight  ;  I  have" faced  the  cannon's 
mouth  in  vain  ;  the  death  I  sought  was  denied  me. 
I  prayed  to  be  buried  under  the  walls  of  Quebec, 
when  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  English,  but  my 
prayer  was  rejected.  I  have  braved  the  horrors  of 
the  tempest  and  the  battle  on  the  sea,  and  the  pes 
tilence  on  land,  without  injury  ;  the  death  I  coveted 
eluded  me  :  and  it  was  not  until  about  one  year 
since,  that  I  began  to  have  a  relish  for  life,  for  it 
was  only  then  that  I  learnt  my  family  had  escaped 
the  dreadful  doom  that  I  believed  had  engulfed 
them  all. 

"  At  Marseilles,  I  chanced  to  meet  with  a  native 
of  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  an  elderly  man,  who 
well  recollected  the  arrival  of  the  Neutral  French 
in  the  province  of  Pennsylvania — province  no  Ion- 


70  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

ger,  thank  God  !  Among  the  various  names,  he 
well  remembered  mine.  I  was  questioning  him 
about  them,  hoping  to  hear  something  of  my  old 
neighbors  ;  in  enumerating  the  names,  he  mention 
ed  yours,  and  said  you  had  gone  to  Boston  to  find 
a  part  of  the  family  that  were  missing  ;  he  was 
sure  of  it,  described  yourself  and  the  boys,  and 
believed  it  was  a  daughter  missing.  I  thought 
then  of  the  report  of  the  lost  vessel,  and  believed 
my  Pauline  and  her  grandfather  had  perished — 
nevertheless,  I  was  overjoyed  at  the  prospect  of 
once  more  beholding  even  one  of  you. 

"  I  could  not  immediately  leave  the  service  1 
was  in  ;  but  as  soon  as  I  could  be  discharged  from 
the  ship,  I  hastened  to  this  country.  I  will  not 
fatigue  you  with  an  account  of  our  hazardous  voy 
age  in  time  of  war,  nor  the  history  of  our  hair 
breadth  escapes,  and  how  near  \ve  came  falling  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy,  nor  the  skirmish  in  which 
I  had  a  chance  of  giving  them  a  few  more  blows. 
You  know  I  came  in  an  American  privateer,  and  I 
have  been  publicly  thanked  by  the  officers  and 
owners,  and  liberally  rewarded  for  my  share  of  th^ 
enterprise." 

Here  ended  the  narrative,  much  to  the  grief  of 
the  children,  who,  however,  had  the  promise  of 
hearing  about  the  hair-breadth  escapes,  and  why 
grandpapa  came  upon  them  so  strangely  in  the 
storm,  and  wore  his  old  clothes,  and  seemed  so 
poor,  at  some  future  day. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH  71 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  Know  ye  this  picture  ?    There  is  one  alone, 

Can  call  its  pencilled  lineaments  her  own."  —  HALLECK. 

ON  the  morning  after  the  narration  just  given,  by 
Louis,  he  announced  the  determination  to  set  out 
for  Philadelphia  during  the  season  when  his  two 
sons  would  probably  be  at  home.  Ferdinand  in 
formed  him  they  would  not  be  at  home,  as  they 
were  now  at  a  fort  up  at  the  north,  where  they 
could  not  be  spared. 

"  But  Pauline,  my  eldest  daughter,  I  shall  see, 
and  you-cannot  think  how  much  I  long  to  embrace 
her.  My  wife.  I  think,  will  go  with  me  to  see  this 
darling,  this  dutiful  child,  whose  light  figure  I  see 
now  in  imagination  bounding  over  the  hills,  as  she 
used  to  come  to  meet  me." 

'•  My  dear  Sir,"  said  Ferdinand,  "  you  must  not 
go  :  remain  here  with  us  this  winter,  and  in  the 
spring,  if  you  insist  upon  going,  I  will  myself  ac 
company  you  the  greater  part  of  the  distance,  as  it 
will  be  all  in  my  way  to  quarters.  You  can  then, 
perhaps,  see  your  sons,  and  at  least  their  families  ; 
recollect  you  have  one  son  to  see  here  yet.  He 
will  return  ere  long,  and  his  wife  and  children, 
whom  you  have  not  seen." 

"  And  why  not,  my  daughter,  Ferdinand  ?  you 
say  nothing  about  seeing  her.  Well  as  I  love  the 
boys,  that  excellent  child  is,  I  am  free  to  confess  it, 
uppermost  in  my  mind.  Speak  ;  you  do  not  ans 
wer  ;  what  is  the  matter?  is  my  child  dead?  Speak 
quick  !  I  must  hear  the  worst  of  it." 

Ferdinand  arose  and  walked  the  room  in  violent 
agitation.  .Madam  and  Josephine  both  sprang  from 
their  seats,  exclaiming,  "  Pauline  is  dead,  and  you 
have  kept  it  from  us." 

"  Indeedj  you  deceive  yourselves  entirely,"  said 


72  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

Ferdinand,  catching  the  almost  fainting  form  of  his 
wife  in  his  arms,  and  seating  her.  "  Pauline  was 
alive  and  well,  when  I  last  heard  from  her ;  but, 
but,"  and  he  hesitated,  in  visible  embarrassment. 

"  Then  she  is  a  prisoner,  I  fear,"  said  Madam, 
clasping  her  hands  ;  "  fallen  into  the  power  of  our 
enemies  once  more." 

"  God  forbid !  "  said  her  son-in-law  ;  "if  she  is 
I  do  not  know  it ;  but  she  is  not  in  the  country," 
he  added,  with  heightened  embarrassment. 

"  Then  she  must  be  dead,"  said  Josephine  ;  "she 
would  not  have  left  it  at  this  time.  Oh,  my  sister ! 
my  dear  sainted  sister !  you  was  too  good  to  live, 
indeed  you  was,"  and  she  sobbed  convulsively, 
while  Madam  hid  her  face  in  agonizing  silence. 

"  For  mercy  sake,  have  patience,"  said  Ferdi 
nand.  "  I  tell  you  I  believe  her  to  be  alive  and 
well,  but,  unhappily,  1  cannot  at  this  moment  dis 
close  the  place  of  her  residence." 

••  vVnai  possible  reason  can  you  have  to  concea! 
her  place  of  abode  ? "  said  the  incredulous  wife. 

"  My  dear  I  cannot  now  explain  the  reason  ;  you 
certainly  will  take  my  word  for  it.  I  have  assured 
you  that  I  believe  her  to  be  alive  and  well,  though 
not  in  the  country.  Where  she  has  gone,  I  am  not 
at  liberty  to  name  at  present,  or  at  least  I  do  not 
think  it  proper." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Josephine,  "  her  .husband  has 
some  business  that  causes  this  mystery;  does  he 
accompany  her  ? " 

"  Oh,  to  be  sure  he  does,"  said  Ferdinand,  smil 
ing  at  her  pertinacity.  "  But  she  herself  desired 
me  not  to  acquaint  you  at  present.  I  should  not 
have  spoken  of  her  absence  at  all,  but  your  father 
obliged  me  too." 

A  long  silence  succeeded  this  remark,  which  was 
at  length  broken  by  the  last  speaker  addressing  his 
father-in-law. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  73 

"  But,  my  dear  Sir,  I  have  quite  a  gratification 
for  you.  which  I  will  withhold  no  longer.  Your 
daughter,  on  the  eve  of  her  departure,  had  a  por 
trait  drawn  on  purpose  to  leave  with  us.  It  has 
come  safely  to  my  hand,  and  if  the  likeness  of  a 
lady  of  forty,  for  your  once  sylph-like  daughter, 
would  be  acceptable,  you  can  see  it."  So  saying, 
he  unlocked  a  drawer  in  the  secretary,  and  drawing 
forth  the  picture,  presented  it  to  the  wondering 
group 

Oh,  what  a  face  and  figure  were  there  exhibited  ! 
If  Louis  had  been  struck  by  the  improved  appear 
ance  and  beauty  of  Josephine,  what  must  he  have 
felt  while  looking  on  the  noble  Pauline  ?  Josephine 
was  symmetry  ;  but  there  was  a  majesty  about  the 
person  of  the  eldest,  that  seemed  to  display  the  fine 
proportions  of  the  form  in  a  far  more  imposing  man 
ner  :  and  then  the  face  !  how  could  the  painter 
have  caught  its  highly  intellectual  expression  ?  Her 
complexion  was  fine,  the  mouth  and  all  the  features 
perfect,  as  in  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  ;  but 
there  was  in  the  expression  of  the  dark  blue  eyes, 
a  something  of  care  and  anxiety  never  observed 
before,  an  expression  of  deep  and  intense  feeling, 
that,  although  it  did  not  detract  from,  but  rather 
heightened  the  beauty  of  one  of  the  finest  faces 
ever  exhibited  on  canvass,  yet  at  once  excited  the 
sympathy  of  the  gazer.  Tears,  unbidden,  ran  down 
the  cheeks  of  Louis  and  Madam,  while  gazing  on 
this  portrait.  The  mother  and  sister  had  not  seen 
her  now  for  several  years. 

"  Can1  it  be,"  said  Louis,  with  rapture,  "that  this 
is  my  dear,  dear  child  ?  the  poor,  exiled  wanderer, 
leading  about  an  old,  blind  grandfather  ?  the  poor 
outcast  that,  more  than  twenty  years  ago,  supported 
the  tottering  steps  of  my  venerable  parent,  a  stran 
ger  in  a  strange  land,  now  grown  into  such  beauty  ? 
and — and — Pauline,  Pauline,  I  prayed  to  die.  May 


74  THE    NEUTRAL   FRENCH. 

God  pardon  the  sinful  petition.  I  feel  it  a  privilege 
to  live,  if  it  is  only  to  be  father  to  a  child  like  thee, 
thou  blessed  of  him  who  upheld  thee,  as  he  did 
holy  Joseph,  in  the  land  whither  he  was  carried 
captive." 

"  There  is  evidence  here/'  said  Josephine.  "  she 
was  about  to  depart.  See,  one  beautiful  hand  holds 
a  bonnet  by  the  string,  as  though  just  about  to  go, 
while  the  other  is  drawn  round  the  fat  neck  of  a 
little  cherub  child,  who  is  hiding  her  face  in  her 
mother's  dress,  as  though  loth  to  release  her.  But 
Pauline  was  very  plain  in  her  apparel,  and  I  marvel 
at  the  splendor  of  the  dress." 

"  The  dress,"  said  Louis,  with  the  air  of  ex 
treme  absence  of  mind,  "  is  exactly  such  as  is  now 
worn  at  the  court  of  France" 

Josephine  turned  suddenly  to  Ferdinand,  who 
frowned,  and  laid  his  finger  on  his  lips  ;  but  it  was 
too  late,  the  remark  of  Louis  had  elucidated  the 
niystery,  as  far  as  related  to  the  place  of  Pauline's 
destination,  and  Ferdinand  was  subjected  to  the 
tumultuous  questions  and  assertions  of  the  whole 
party. 

Ferdinand,  as  soon  as  he  could  make  himself 
heard,  stated  that  the  husband  of  Pauline  had  long 
been  desirous  of  visiting  his  native  land,  and  had 
only  been  detained  by  his  wife,  whose  dread  of 
crossing  the  water  had  been  so  great  since  the 
wretched  voyage  from  Nova  Scotia  ;  that  her  mind 
had  recently  changed,  as  the  Chevalier  had  received 
a  bequest  of  an  estate  near  Paris,  which  required 
his  presence  ;  and  they  both,  after  mature  delibera 
tion,  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  they  could 
not  do  better  than  go  and  stay  a  few  years,  during 
the  troubled  state  of  the  country  ;  that  they  had  at 
tfirst  resolved  to  leave  the  children  to  their  care,  as 
the  danger  was  so  great,  both  from  the  season  of  the 
year  and  from  British  cruisers,  but  had  at  length 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  ?O 


Jecided  to  take  them  ;  and  Pauline  desired  her 
mother  and  sister  might  not  be  apprized  of  their 
departure  until  they  should  be  informed  they  were 
safely  arrived  in  France.  To  gratify  her  husband, 
he  added,  she  was  drawn  in  the  dress  that,  it  seem 
ed,  had  betrayed  her. 

"  Husband,"  said  Josephine,  "  there  is  but  one 
objection  to  all  this.  I  believe  every  word  you  say, 
for  I  know  you  would  not  assert  a  falsehood  :  but 
my  sister,  my  heroic  sister,  is  so  patriotic,  I  would 
have  engaged  she  would  have  stayed  by  the  coun 
try  until  she  had  secured  her  independence." 

The  father's  and  mother's  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
the  sweet  countenance  of  the  portrait,  and  the  chil 
dren  admiring  the  richness  of  the  dress  ;  but  Fer 
dinand,  who  appeared  to  writhe  at  the  remark  of 
his  wife,  turned  upon  her  such  a  look  that  the 
conscious  Josephine  actually  blushed  crimson,  and 
was  particular  not  to  ask  any  moro  questions. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  but, that  the  family  in 
Boston  endured  some  anxiety  during  this  severe 
winter,  after  the  departure  of  Pauline  :  neverthe 
less,  they  had  so  much  reason  to  be  thankful,  blessed 
as  they  were  with  the  society  of  their  long-lost 
father,  that,  they  could  not  repine,  but  waited  with 
hope  and  confidence  the  event,  trusting  that  the 
Providence  that  had  hitherto  watched  over  the  be 
loved  one,  would  not  now  desert  her. 

As  to  Louis,  his  character  had  much  improved  by 
the  society  he  had  been  thrown  among.  He  had 
held  a  commission  in  the  French  army  at  one  time ; 
he  had  travelled  and  seen  much  of  the  world,  and 
age  had  sobered  his  feelings  and  strengthened  his 
judgment,  and  he  was,  on  the  whole,  just  such  a 
person  as  the  family  needed  during  the  long  absence 
of  its  head.  In  his  protection  they  felt  additional 
safety  :  and  to  the  children,  his  society  was  a  great 
acquisition. 

27 


76  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  To  kinder  skies,  \vhere  gentler  manners  reign, 
We  turn,  and  France  displays  her  bright  domain." 

TURN  we  to  the  land  of  vineyards,  the  land  of 
song  and  dance — to  that  gay  and  happy  nation  that 
knows  no  care  beyond  the  morrow,  or  rather  be 
yond  to-day — that  never  borrows  affliction — that 
can  pass  through  the  greatest  changes,  without 
being  changed  themselves — that  can  even  wade 
through  seas  of  blood  without  being  stained — the 
whole  flitting  past  like  the  scenes  of  a  magic  lan 
tern,  and  leaving  no  trace  behind — to  the  paradise 
of  heroes  and  the  heaven  of  women — to  the  only 
nation  on  earth,  where  pure  good  nature  and  social 
enjoyment  exists,  unalloyed  by  the  contempt  of  the 
critic  and  the  sneer  of  the  scorner. 

Great  was  the  transition  from  America,  struggling 
with  unheard-of  difficulties,  and  warring  with  em 
battled  hosts — her  people  exerting  every  power  and 
straining  every  nerve  in  her  service — her  rude  and 
undisciplined  army — her  great  men  rising  early  and 
taking  no  rest — her  sons  dragged  into  captivity  or 
slain  on  the  field — and  her  priests,  clothed  in  the 
garments  of  mourning,  weeping  between  the  porch 
and  the  altar. 

Strong,  indeed,  was  the  contrast  to  Pauline,  when 
s)ie  first  set  foot  on  the  soil  of  France  ;  she  found 
herself  surrounded  by  scenes  of  beauty  and  splen 
dor,  but  one  feeling  was  uppermost  in  her  heart — 
she  felt  she  was  in  the  country  of  her  ancestors. 
It  was  the  first  time  she  had  found  herself  among 
a  people  professing  the  same  faith  and  speaking 
the  same  language,  since  her  banishment  from  be 
loved,  ever-to-be-remembered  Acadia.  So  great  was 
her  transport,  that  it  even  broke  out  in  expressions 
of  rapture,  to  the  great  amusement  of  her  husband, 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  "77 

and  very  likely  to  that  of  many  of  the  passengers 
in  the  street,  as  she  frequently  put  her  head  out  of 
the  carriage-window,  in  jostling  through  the  crowd 
ed  streets  of  Paris,  to  catch  the  accents  of  her  na 
tive  tongue.  But  the  French  are  so  polite  ;  in 
England  or  America  it  would  have  excited  ridicule, 
if  nothing  worse,  on  the  instant ;  but  the  French 
never  exhibit  surprise  or  disgust  at  the  blunders  of 
strangers  ;  it  would  be  the  height  of  ill-breeding  in 
France,  though  the  Chevalier,  as  we  observed,  was 
much  amused. 

This  accomplished  Frenchman  had  left  the  coun 
try  when  quite  a  young  man,  determined  to  push 
his  fortunes  in  the  new  world.  He  was  an  orphan, 
not  penniless,  but  he  had  a  great  deal  of  heroism 
about  him,  and  the  situation  of  Q,uebec  at  that 
time  called  loudly  for  the  assistance  of  such  spirits, 
and  offered  them  a  suitable  field  of  action,  where 
their  heroic  qualities  were  not  likely  to  rust.  He 
distinguished  himself  in  that  devoted  province  on 
various  occasions,  and  was  one  of  the  last  to  stand 
by  Vandreuil  ;  but  he  was  also  one  of  those  who 
thought  the  Canadas  too  tamely  surrendered,  and 
for  that  reason  disdained  to  return  to  France  and 
claim  the  rewards  his  valor  deserved  at  the  hands 
of  the  French  King.  For  several  years  past,  how 
ever,  he  had  felt  a  lingering  desire  to  revisit  his 
native  land.  By  the  death  of  a  relative,  he  had 
become  possessed  of  a  very  considerable  estate,  and 
he  now  felt  the  necessity  of  appearing  there  as  the 
representative  of  his  family  ;  but  to  his  great  grief, 
his  wife  was  most  reluctant  to  go.  It  was  about 
the  time  that  the  difficulties  were  brewing  between 
Great  Britain  and  her  American  colonies,  and  both 
husband  and  wife  watched  the  progress  of  events 
with  much  anxiety.  Time  passed  on,  and  the 
Chevalier,  fired  with  the  love  of  liberty,  had  already 
fought  in  several  skirmishes  as  a  volunteer,  and 


78  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

now  signified  to  his  lady  that  he  had  decided  upon 
taking  a  commission  in  the  American  army,  whenr 
to  his  great  surprise,  she  acquainted  him  with  the 
resolution  she  had  just  formed  of  accompanying 
him  to  France,  and  begged  him  to  defer  his  plan 
until  he  could  go  over  and  arrange  his  business  in 
that  country. 

The  husband  could  not  but  think  of  the  varia 
bleness  of  woman,  and  the  whimsical  desire  to 
visit  a  place  she  had  before  been  so  averse  to  go  to. 
now  at  a  time  of  such  imminent  danger.  But,  fear 
ing  she  might  not  again  be  willing,  and  loth  to  be 
separated  from  his  family,  he  concluded  it  was  best 
to  take  her  while  the  fit  was  on,  particularly  as 
he  might,  by  some  informality,  lose  the  estate  here 
after,  unless  he  was  there  to  take  possession  in  per 
son,  and  secure  to  his  growing  family  a  fortune 
they  would  so  much  'need.  Still,  the  Chevalier 
demurred  to  going  in  the  way  his  lady  proposed  ; 
for  it  was  in  an  American  vessel,  going  to  carry 
despatches  to  the  commissioners,  that  she  proposed 
going  in. 

Nevertheless,  she  was  so  very  urgent,  arid  the 
prospect  of  actual  service  being  so  distant,  for  the 
respective  armies  were  about  going  into  winter 
quarters,  that  he  acceded  to  the  plan.  But  now 
another  difficulty  arose.  What  should  they  do  with 
the  children  ?  would  it  be  right  to  expose  them  to 
the  dangers  of  the  sea,  and  of  capture  ?  and  they 
had  almost  concluded  to  leave  them  to  the  care  of 
Josephine.  The  children  themselves,  in  the  mean 
time,  were  anxious  to  share  the  fate  of  their  parents 
and  to  visit  France.  The  Chevalier  was  distracted 
between  the  desire  to  provide  for  the  safety  of  those 
dear  ones,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  keep  his  fam 
ily  together  if  possible  ;  and  he  finally  left  the 
question  to  his  wife,  arid  entreated  her  to  decide 
for  him. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  79 

c:  I  made  the  request.''  said  he,  in  a  letter  to  Fer 
dinand,  "to  my  wife  while  she  was  busiest  in  her 
own  preparations  for  the  voyage  ;  and  I  shall  never 
forget  how  she  looked  as  she  stopped  in  the  middle 
of  the  room,  and  with  that  instant  decision  of  char 
acter  for  which  she  is  so  remarkable,  immediately 
answered  : 

"  '  Should  the  fortune  of  war  prove  disastrous  to 
this  people,  their  fate  might  be  as  bad  as  ours  was. 
I  do  not  think  it  will.  I  think  they  commenced 
resistance  in  the  right  place,  and  with  the  right  de 
termination  :  but  it  is  our  duty  to  be  prepared  for 
all  reverses,  and  should  the  contest  be  decided 
against  them,  where  could  our  dear  children  be  as 
safe  as  in  France  ?  If  you  leave  it  to  my  judg 
ment,  I  say  carry  them.' ? 

The  joy  of  the  young  family  was  exuberant  at 
the  prospect  before  them ;  and  although  they  en 
countered  much  rough  weather,  and  the  near  dan 
ger  of  capture  more  than  once,  yet  they  kept  their 
word  of  remaining  quiet,  and  not  adding  to  the 
general  confusion  on  board.  Arrived  in  France, 
their  joy  was  boundless,  particularly  when  they 
came  to  the  really  elegant  and  antique  chateau  to 
which  their  father  introduced  them  as  to  their  future 
home  ;  and  they  sat  themselves  to  adorning  it,  and 
putting  tilings  in  order,  with  so  much  zeal  and 
alacrity  as  perfectly  to  astonish  the  old  domestics 
who  had  remained  in  the  care  of  the  building,  and 
who  could  not  conceive  of  genteel  and  fashionable 
people,  particularly  those  in  whose  veins  ran  the 
blood  of  the  ancient  nobility,  degrading  themselves 
by  engaging  in  such  menial  employments,  especial 
ly  in  restoring  and  arranging  the  gardens ;  the  boys 
discovered  great  tact  in  managing  with  the  hoe,  the 
shovel,  the  crowbar,  and  wheelbarrow,  all  of  which 
they  had  brought  with  them. 

Of  course,  the  Chevalier  paid  his  devoirs  at  court 
37* 


80  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH, 

soon  after  his  arrival,  and  received  the  congratula 
tions  of  majesty  upon  the  acquisition  of  his  prop 
erty. 

"  But,  in  truth,"  said  the  monarch,  "  I  wonder 
much  that  your  chivalry  had  not  inclined  you  to 
take  up  arms  for  these  brave  Americans.  Why,  all 
our  young  cavaliers  are  going  stark  mad  to  fight 
their  battles/' 

The  Chevalier  smiled.  "  My  present  duties  ne 
cessarily  led  me  here  ;  but  it  is  not  impossible  I 
may  return  and  offer  my  poor  services.  As  a  vol 
unteer,  I  have  already  fought  in  their  defence  in 
two  battles,  and  with  braver  men  it  has  never  been 
my  lot  to  fight,  untrained  and  almost  undisciplined 
as  they  are." 

"It  is  from  that  circumstance  I  fear  for  them," 
said  Louis  ;  "  the  veterans  of  England  and  Germa 
ny,  thou  knowest,  are  trained  to  war." 

"It  is  from  the  knowledge  of  that  fact,  please 
your  Majesty,"  said  the  Chevalier,  "  that  I  confi 
dently  predict  their  success.  If  with  such  raw  and 
undisciplined  troops,  so  much  can  be  effected,  what 
must  we  look  for  when  discipline  shall  be  added  to 
indomitable  courage  and  that  hatred  of  oppression 
and  ardent  love  of  liberty  that  now  pervades  the 
bosom  of  all  ranks  of  their  people  ? " 

"  And  I  am  told,"  added  Louis,  "  that  the  people 
of  that  country  are  singularly  enlightened,  notwith 
standing  the  exercise  of  British  tyranny,  that  has 
held  them  in  subjection  so  long."  * 


*  This  is  a  very  brief  sample  of  the  manner  in  which  the  unfor- 
tunate  Louis  conversed  on  the  subject  of  the  American  Revolu 
tion  ;  and  to  us  it  must  appear  in  the  highest  degree  astonishing, 
that  this  otherwise  amiable  monarch  did  not  see  the  tyranny  with 
which  his  own  people  were  governed.  The  bastile  and  lettre  de 
cachet  were  then  in  full  operation.  The  satellites  of  the  court 
were  in  general  a  set  of  profligates,  (as  in  all  courts  they  are ;) 
and  they  on  the  one  hand  were  rioting  in  wealth,  while  the  poor 
and  laboring  classes,  of  all  professions,  were  almost  in  the  situation 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  SI 

"  Your  Majesty  knows,"  said  the  Chevalier,  "  that 
the  British  government  attributes  the  revolution  en 
tirely  to  the  loose  manner  in  which  they  have  held 
the  reins  of  power  in  that  country.  But  I  rather 
attribute  this  fact  to  a  knowledge  of  the  spirit  of 
the  people  ;  they  never  have  been  able  even  to  es 
tablish  their  church  in  America  yet,  though  the 
great  body  of  the  people  are  not  particularly  set 
against  the  church,  but  wholly  from  the  fear  of 
being  priest-ridden  ;  and  they  will  rue  the  day  when 
they  attempted  to  govern  an  enlightened  nation  by 
brute  force." 

The  beautiful  Antoinette  inquired  "  if  the  Chev 
alier  had  married  a  rebel  wife  ?  "  To  which  Fer 
dinand  modestly  replied  he  was  afraid  so  ;  but  he 
had  married  a  lady  of  French  extraction." 

•"  Then  we  shall  be  impatient  to  see  her,"  was 
the  polite  remark.  However,  Pauline  did  not  go 
immediately  to  court,  and  the  reputation  of  her 
beauty  preceded  her.  A  new  face  had  always  great 
attraction  for  the  Parisian  public,  and  somehow  a 

rumor  had  come  into  circulation  that  Madam  D 

was  exquisitely  handsome,  and  the  nobles  were  on 
the  que  vive  to  behold  the  newly-arrived  lady. 

of  beasts  of  burden,  and  the  half-starved  peasantry,  bought  and  sold 
with  the  estates,  were  actually  below  them.  Humanity  weeps  at 
the  rejection,  that,  the  friend  of  liberty  in  America,  Louis  the 
Sixteenth — whose  name,  with  all  his  faults,  will  ever  be  dear  to 
Americans — could  see  so  clearly  the  oppressive  exactions  under 
which  we  suffered  and  rebelled,  and  was  blind  to  those  of  his  own 
dominions.  What  terrible  infatuation  must  have  guided  his  coun- 
'sels  !  If,  with  the  power  placed  in  his  hands,  he  had  then  attempt 
ed  a  refoim,  the  horrors  of  the  revolution  might  have  been  averted, 
Louis  saved  from  a  violent  and  premature  death,  and  France  from 
the  ignominy  of  deluging  her  own  fair  country  with  the  blood  of 
her  citizens.  No  doubt  there  would  have  been  much  plotting  and 
opposition  from  the  proud  and  avaricious  priests  and  nobles,  as 
there  is  now  in  England,  but  nine  teuths  of  the  people  would  have 
stood  by  him  ;  every  Lafayette  among  the  nobles,  and  every  Mas- 
sillon  among  the  priests,  would  have  been  his  firm  supporters  ; 
and,  above  all,  the  prayers  of  the  poor  would  have  called  down 
blessings  upon  his  reign,  and  a  glorious  immortality  awaited  him. 


82  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

It  may  appear  surprising  to  us  that  a  lady  of  forty, 
or  nearly  that,  should  have  excited  interest  or  curi 
osity  on  account  of  her  beauty  ;  but  we  must  recol 
lect  the  French  are  celebrated  for  their  admiration 
of  mature  charms,  and  that  no  one  ever  hears  of  a 
lady's  beauty  until  it  is  appropriated.  One  reason, 
probably,  why  it  is  the  heaven  of  women,  is  be 
cause  they  never  grow  old  there.  Certain  it  is,  that 
women  have  made  conquests  there  at  an  age  when, 
in  any  other  country,  they  would  have  been  in  their 
second  cradle  ;  yes,  and  "  men  have  died  for  love, 
and  worms  have  eaten  them,"  for  some  of  those 
antiquated  charmers.  However,  we  are  not  going 
to  compare  any  of  these,  with  our  incomparable 
heroine. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  A  kind  true  heart,  a  spirit  high, 

That  could  not  fear,  and  would  not  bow, 
Were  wrhlcn  in  his  manly  eye, 
And  on  his  venerable  brow." 

WE  must  pause  a  moment  to  look  at  the  state  of 
political  affairs  at  the  time  of  our  heroine's  arrival 
in  the  French  capital.  Doctor  Franklin,  one  of  the 
commissioners  sent  by  the  American  Congress,  was 
there,  soliciting  the  assistance  and  co-operation  of 
the  French  monarch.  History  says,  "  no  single 
individual  ever  created  equal  excitement  in  the 
French  capital."  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  certain 
that  he  was  much  admired  by  persons  of  all  ranks, 
much  sought,  much  talked  of.  He  was  then  over 
seventy  years  of  age ;  and  it  shows  the  generous 
nature  of  the  French,  that  they  seemed  to  appre 
ciate  the  efforts  of  the  venerable  patriot,  who  had 
traversed  the  ocean  at  his  advanced  age  to  recom- 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  83 

mend  the  cause  of  his  suffering  country.  He  re 
sided  at  Passy,  a  few  miles  out  of  Paris,  in  a  style 
of  simplicity  that  truly  became  his  character  as  a 
representative  of  a  republic  ;  and  he  even  appeared 
at  court,  it  is  said,  and  on  all  public  occasions,  in 
most  conspicuous  simplicity,  which  had  the  effect 
to  recommend  his  cause  powerfully  :  a  proof,  un 
doubtedly,  that  even  the  fashionable,  the  dissipated, 
and  the  extravagant,  feel  an  involuntary  respect  for 
every  one  who  has  the  independence  to  appear  ac 
cording  to  his  circumstances.  It  was  said  of  this 
good  and  consistent  man,  that  "  wherever  he  ap 
peared,  there  was  an  immediate  interest  excited  in 
his  favor  ;  and  hence,  by  a  natural  transition,  to  the 
cause  he  advocated." 

The  whole  French  capital,  and  indeed  the  nation, 
were  favorable  to  the  interests  of  America  previous 
to  the  arrival  of  the  commissioners  ;  and  after  that 
event,  they  were  even  clamorous  for  permission  to 
assist  them  ;  still,  there  were  those  who  wilily  sug 
gested  doubts  about  the  prudence  of  engaging  in  a 
cause  which  would,  in  their  opinion,  soon  be  over 
turned  by  its  adversaries,  and  deserted  by  its  friends. 
But,  whatever  were  the  opinions  advanced,  America 
was  on  all  hands  the  subject  of  general  conversa 
tion  ;  nor  could  all  the  intrigues  of  cunning  poli 
ticians  prevent,*  but,  on  the  contrary,  their  efforts 


*  This  was  a  time  when  there  were  a  vast  many  intriguers  in 
the  service  and  pay  of  Great  Britain  at  the  French  court — so  say 
the  historians  of  those  times.  Botta,  in  his  History  of  the  United 
States,  says  :  "  It  was  the  business  of  these,  to  suggest  continually 
to  the  French  ministry  that  America,  unable  to  cope  with  her 
powerful  adversary,  would  soon  yield  in  unconditional  submission, 
or  with  some  few  reserves,  insignificant  in  themselves,  and  imma 
terial  to  England  ;  that  her  resources  were  nearly  used  up,  her 
forces  undisciplineJ,  her  officers  unequal  to  the  character  they 
assumed,  and  the  trust  they  were  invested  with,  and  their  cour 
age  would  soon  evaporate;  that  their  Congress  were  a  set  of 
shallow. paled,  empty  demagogues,  who  already  repented  the  busi 
ness  they  sat  out  upon  ;  and  that  the  whole  posse  would  undoubt- 


84  >  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

rather  served  to  increase  the  general  interest  in 
American  affairs.  There  could  not,  then,  have  been 
a  time  when  the  Chevalier  and  his  fair  partner 
would  have  been  more  admired,  more  a  subject  of 
conversation  and  public  attention  than  at  the  pres 
ent.  To  this,  her  French  extract  very  essentially 
contributed.  The  particulars  of  the  history  of  her 
family  they  were  too  polite  to  inquire  ;  the  French 
are  always  satisfied  with  what  you  choose  to  com 
municate  to  them,  and  are  little  given  to  inquire 
into  the  private  affairs  of  others. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1777,  that  Pauline  and 
her  husband  arrived  in  the  French  capital.  De 
tained  as  they  had  been  by  storms  and  contrary 


edly  be  hanged  as  soon  as  the  rebels  should  lay  down  their  arms, 
although  they  asserted  the  greater  part  of  them  had  privately 
written  to  the  British  authorities  tomaku  the  best  terms  they  coald 
in  case  of  such  an  event ;  and  that  France,  should  she  take  part 
in  the  contest,  would  soon  find  herself  alone  in  the  field,  saddled 
with  a  war  in  which  she  had  no  concern,  in  behalf  of  a  set  of  des 
peradoes,  the  ringleaders  of  whom  would  all  meet  their  deserts  at 
the  hands  of  the  hangman." 

When  the  secrets  of  all  men  shall  be  disclosed  at,  the  great  day, 
it  is  presumable  that  the  expose  of  court  diplomacy  will  reveal  the 
greatest  mystery  of  iniquity  the  whole  assembled  universe  can 
produce.  We  shall  then  know  how  certain  nations  have  contrive;1, 
to  make  themselves  so  powerful,  and  of  England  among  the  rest, 
whose  boasted  system  is  essentially  systematic  intrigue.  There  is 
uot  a  court  in  Europe — to  say  nothing  cf  America,  where  her 
facilities  are  boundless,  speaking  the  same  language,  &c. — wherr 
there,-  is  not  a  set  of  hired  traitors  employed  to  sow  the  seed*  of 
jealousy,  discord,  and  discontent,  against  the  existing  government. 
If  the  real  origin  of  many  of  the  disturbances  that  have  deluged 
Europe  in  blood,  divided  the  counsels  and  destroyed  the  resources 
of  nations,  could  be  known,  in  nineteen  cases  out  of  twenty  the 
intriguers  of  foreign  courts  would  be  found  at  the  bottom  of  them, 
and  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  during  the  last  five  hundred  years, 
England  has  been  the  intriguer.  It  is  now  a  well  known  fact,  that 
that  celebrated  diplomatist  and  arch-fiend,  Talleyrand,  was  in 
constant  and  private  correspondence  with  the  English  government 
during  his  whole  career,  both  under  the  Bourbons  and  under  Bona 
parte  ;  but  it  is  a  matter  of  speculation,  how  far  his  wicked  coun 
sels  might  have  produced  the  state  of  things  that  caused  the  revo 
lution  in  France,  or  how  for  he  might  have  influenced  the  nK •:; 
of  Bonaparte  to  bring  about  his  overthrow. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  85 

winds  on  the  ocean,  she  had  contracted  a  cold  that 
prevented  her  seeing  much  company  for  several 
weeks,  and  daring  this  time  curiosity  had  been  on 
tiptoe  to  see  her,  so  that  when  she  did  display  her 
self,  she  had,  without  knowing  it,  created  a  very 
considerable  interest.  Her  person  and  manners 
were  much  admired,  even  by  majesty,  and  her  re 
ception  at  the  French  court  was  of  the  most  flat 
tering  kind.  The  ease  and  grace  of  her  manners, 
which,  to  say  truth,  were  almost  intuitive,  were  the 
subject  of  universal  remark,  coming  as  she  did  from 
a  country  where  the  inhabitants  were  not  to  be 
supposed  court-bred,  while  her  uncommon  beauty 
and  very  peculiar  cast  of  countenance,  (being,  as 
we  before  remarked,  of  a  highly  intellectual  char 
acter.)  excited  unqualified  admiration. 

During  the  few  weeks  of  Pauline's  indisposition 
and  confinement  to  the  chateau,  she  amused  herself 
with  superintending  the  painting  in  oil  colors  of  the 
set  of  landscapes  mentioned  in  a  former  part  of  this 
work,  of  which  she  and  her  sister  each  possessed  a 
set  in  water  colors,  done  by  themselves  and  Ferdi 
nand  at  the  time  when  drawing  was  taught  in  their 
schools.  She  had  always  had  a  strong  desire  to 
have  them  painted  by  a  master  in  the  art,  and  had 
now  a  favorable  opportunity,  as  an  eminent  artist 
then  in  the  city,  had  agreed  to  come  out  to  the 
chateau  three  times  a  week,  to  give  lessons  to  her 
children.  From  her  glowing  description  of  "  beau 
tiful  Acadia,"  the  artist  was  enabled  to  improve 
materially,  and  when  the  last  touch  was  given, 
they  were  really  elegant  and  masterly  performances, 
and  Pauline  proposed  having  them  exhibited  at  the 
gallery  of  the  Louvre,  in  order  to  recommend  the 
artist. 

The  singularity  of  these  paintings,  having  no 
designation,  and  affording  no  clue  by  which  to  ex 
plain  them,  at  once  excited  great  attention  ;  but 


86  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

the  persons  who  had  charge  of  the  collection,  could 
give  nothing  of  their  history.  Various  surmises 
were  made,  as  in  Boston,  as  to  what  part  of  the 
world  they  represented,  and  what  was  the  story  of 
the  singular  group  there  represented.  By  the  re 
quest  of  his  wife,  the  Chevalier  had  abstained  from 
saying  any  thing  on  the  subject,  though  he  contriv 
ed  to  be  present  several  times  and  hear  the  remarks. 
Several  wondered  what  opinion  his  Majesty  would 
give,  as  it  was  known  he  regularly  visited  the  gal 
lery,  for  the  purpose  of  inspecting  the  paintings, 
one  day  in  each  week,  usually  carrying  some  one 
of  the  royal  household  with  him  ;  at  times,  he 
walked  alone  there,  and  his  visits  were  not  made 
during  the  hours  of  public  exhibition.  Pauline 
called  once  to  observe  their  situation,  and  see  if  the 
light  fell  in  the  right  quarter. 

On  the  following  day,  attired  with  great  simplic 
ity,  but  looking  remarkably  beautiful,  she  came 
down  stairs,  prepared  to  visit  the  gallery  again. 

"  My  dear  love,"  said  her  husband,  "  I  am  half 
a  mind  to  prevent  your  going,  you  have  been  so 
much  indisposed  of  late  •  going  two  days  in  suc 
cession,  I  fear  may  injure  you,  though  (he  added, 
with  a  smile)  I  never  saw  you  look  better."  How 
ever,  when  the  carriage  drove  up,  he  handed  her 
very  gallantly  in,  and  followed,  to  attend  her  safe 
there. 

For  some  time  they  walked  about  among  the 
brilliant  circle,  and  the  Chevalier  had  the  pleasure 
of  introducing  his  beautiful  helpmate  to  a  number 
of  the  nobility  and  gentry  who  had  not  yet  seen 
her.  The  hour  at  length  arrived  when  the  galle 
ries  cleared,  and  one  by  one  the  visitors  departed. 

"  You  may  leave  me,"  said  Pauline,  seating  her 
self  directly  in  front  of  a  beautiful  landscape  of 
Claude  Loraine,  and  taking  a  paper  and  pencil,  "  I 
have  obtained  permission  to  sit  here  a  little  time  to 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  87 

take  a  sketch.     I  shall  not,  in  this  corner,  be  mo 
lested,  or  molest  any  one." 

\s  you  like,  my  love,"  said  the  Chevalier  ; 
"but  I  seriously  fear  you  are  not  yet  sufficiently 
strong  to  engage  in  what  you  are  about ;  besides, 
do  you  know  this  is  the  day  on  which  his  Majesty 
visits  the  gallery  ?  and  I  should  be  loth  he  should 
see  my  wife  here  alone.  I  am  afraid  he  will  think 
you  an  artist  yourself,  and  I  rather  think  you  would 
be  unable  to  support  that  character/'5  with  a  smile. 

'•'•  Never  mind,"  said  Pauline,  gayly  ;  "  I  can  easi 
ly  manage  to  elude  his  observation,  and  I  will  not 
disgrace  you,  I  promise." 

The  polite  husband  took  his  leave,  not,  however, 
without  a  feeling  of  anxiety  he  could  not  altogether 
account  for.  He  feared  his  idolized  wife  was  tax 
ing  herself  beyond  her  strength  for  a  mere  whim. 
He  had  observed  her  to  tremble,  and  several  times 
change  color  :  and  more  than  once  he  turned  back 
to  insist  upon  her  coming  away  with  him.  Then, 
ashamed  of  his  fears,  and  loth  to  deprive  her  of  a 
gratification,  he  slowly  retraced  his  steps,  and  de 
parted. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

41  Strike  !  till  the  last  armed  foe  expires  ; 
Strike  !  for  your  altars  and  your  fires  ; 
Strike  !  for  the  green  graves  of  your  sires, 
God,  and  your  native  land  !  " 

LEFT  almost  alone  in  the  silent  and  now  deserted 
gallery,  the  fair  intruder  began  to  feel  her  heart 
throb.  The  works  of  an  art  that  she  delighted  in, 
that  invited  her  admiration  on  every  side,  had  sud 
denly  lost  their  power  to  charm.  She  sat  for  a  few 
moments  quite  absorbed,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
28 


88  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

beautiful  picture  of  Claude  Loraine,  without  sens 
ing  at  all  what  she  was  gazing  at  ;  then  softly  sigh 
ing  "  this  will  not  do,"  she  arose  and  paced  the 
gallery.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  but  she  had  felt 
some  curiosity  to  know  the  remarks  his  Majesty 
would  make  upon  the  landscapes  which  had  excited 
so  much  attention  from  the  casual  visitors  within  a 
few  days  past,  and  had  chosen  a  retreat  from  which 
she  could  observe  what  past  without  being  seen. 
An  anxiety,  however,  to  know  that  her  pictures 
were  now  placed  in  the  best  possible  light,  urged 
her  to  view  them  once  more  before  they  should  be 
seen  by  so  illustrious  a  visitant.  Satisfied  with  the 
position  of  the  group,  she  was  again  retiring,  and 
was  about  to  regain  her  hiding-place,  when  an  im 
provement,  she  had  not  before  observed,  struck  her 
in  one  of  the  pieces,  and  she  stopped  to  observe 
it.  It  was  the  strong  resemblance  a  figure  there 
bore  to  herself  in  the  morning  of  her  days.  The 
painter  had  easily  divined  which  of  the  pictures 
represented  herself,  and  on  the  day  succeeding  her 
visit,  had  added  a  few  touches  to  the  piece,  which 
rendered  the  likeness  perfect.  Lost  in.  admiration 
of  an  art  that  could  with  so  much  ease  bring  back 
the  days  of  childhood,  and  lift  the  veil  of  years, 
she  stopped  involuntarily,  while  the  big  tears  gath 
ered  in  her  eyes,  and  her  bosom  swelled  with  unut 
terable  emotion. 

Shall  we  wonder  that  even  he  who  had  seen  the 
beautiful  Antoinette,  gazed  on  her  with  admiration  ? 
Louis  the  Sixteenth  had  entered  the  gallery  unob 
served,  alone,  on  this  day,  and  seeing  the  figure  of 
a  female  standing  so  perfectly  absorbed,  with  noise 
less  step  drew  near  to  observe  her.  In  the  crowd, 
her  uncommon  beauty,  though  observed,  was  not 
calculated  to  make  such  impression ;  for  who,  among 
hundreds  of  elegant  and  well  dressed  women,  would 
have  time  or  opportunity  to  examine  the  beauties 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  89 

of  one  individual.  That  she  had  a  very  fine  form 
and  beautiful  face,  was  often  repeated  :  and,  added 
to  this,  she  was  an  American,  though,  sooth  to  say. 
of  this  there  was  sometimes  a  doubt,  she  spoke  the 
pure  French  with  such  fluency.  Beautiful  women 
were  not  then  very  uncommon  at  the  French  court : 
besides  the  incomparable  Antoinette,  there  were 
many  there  who  could  lay  claim  to  a  large  share, 
but  the  beauty  of  Pauline  was  of  an  entirely  differ 
ent  cast :  there  was  .a  chaste  and  classic  elegance 
about  her;  in  that  region  at  least,  entirely  unique. 
Perfectly  unconscious  of  the  admiration  she  excited 
in  the  usually  cold  breast  of  the  monarch,  she  con 
tinued  to  gaze  upon  the  picture,  with  her  bonnet  in 
her  hand,  discovering  at  a  view  the  perfect  bust  and 
profile,  the  marble  neck,  the  flushed  cheek,  contin 
ually  varying  its  color,  the  full,  ripe,  parting  lips, 
the  penciled  Ijrow,  and  long  dark  eyelash,  now  wet 
with  a  tear,  which  had  just  dropped  on  her  cheek, 
the  profusion  of  chestnut  hair,  just  stirred  by  the 
current  of  air  which  was  now  floating  through  the 
gallery,  the  beautiful  hand  and  arm,  were  all  ex 
posed  in  a  side  view  ;  and  when,  startled  by  hear 
ing  a  deep  suspiration  near  her,  she  turned  those 
full  blue  eyes  upon  the  monarch,  there  was  in  their 
exquisite  expression  a  something  which  reminded 
him  of  a  faintly  imaged  being  of  a  dream,  or  of 
something  he  had  caught  an  idea  of  from  a  picture, 
but  of  the  existence  of  which,  in  real  life,  he  had 
always  doubted.  As  soon  as  she  found  herself  ob 
served,  with  a  low  and  graceful  salutation,  she 
turned  to  retire.  But  Louis,  who  in  a  moment  di 
vined  that  the  pictures  opposite,  which  had  so  ab 
sorbed  Madam  D ,  were  the  ones  that  had  been 

so  much  spoken  of  within  a  few  days,  and  thinking 
he  had  now  an  opportunity  of  discovering  a  secret 
that  had  puzzled  so  many  heads,  a  gratification 
that  always  gave  him  particular  pleasure,  called  to 


90  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

the  lady,  and  in  a  very  polite  manner  requested  her 
to  stop  and  give  him  some  information.  Notwith 
standing  the  civility  with  which  the  request  was 
made,  there  was  an  air  of  command  about  him, 
who  had  been  accustomed  to  say  to  this  man  "  go, 
and  he  went,  and  to  another,  do  this,  and  he  did  it," 
that  could  not  be  mistaken  ;  and  Pauline,  instantly 
turning' back,  with  another  respectful  salutation, 
awaited  his  commands  in  silence. 

"  Can  you,"  said  the  monarch,  pointing  to  the 
group  of  landscapes,  "  explain  to  me  the  design  of 
those,  and  in  what  part  of  the  world  the  scenes  are 
laid  ?  This,  for  instance,"  pointing  first  to  the  one 
that  represented  the  debarkation  of  the  Neutrals, 
when  banished  from  their  happy  homes  j  "it  cer 
tainly  represents  a  scene  of  touching  distress." 

"  Not  more  so  than  it  was,  Sire  ;  the  pencil  can 
never  do  justice  to  that  scene  of  suffering.  It  rep 
resents  the  forcible  banishment  of  a  once  happy  arid 
affluent  people,  from  their  homes  and  possessions, 
and  the  cruel  and  remorseless  manner  in  which 
they  were  shipped  to  distant  and  unknown  shores, 
among  a  people  whose  language,  manners,  and  laws 
they  were  utter  strangers  to,  separated  from  each 
other,  and  exposed  to  the  insolence  of  unfeeling 
soldiery,  for  one  only  solitary  offence." 

"  Why,  what  crime  could  a  whole  people  have 
committed,  to  warrant  such  exterminating  ven 
geance  ?  Was  there  no  punishment  agreeable  to 
the  laws  of  war  ?  "  demanded  Louis. 

'•'It  was  during  a  season  of  profound  peace," 
replied  Pauline  ;  "  for  I  believe  there  is  no  war 
where  the  blows  are  all  on  one  side." 

"  No,  certainly  not ;  but  the  crime  !  the  crime  !" 
said  the  monarch,  impatiently. 

"No  crime,"  said  Pauline,  looking  down,  and 
meekly  folding  heV  hands  upon  her  bosom.  "  but 
having  French  blood  in  our  veins." 


THE    NEUTRAL    tfUENCH  91 

"  Our."  said  Louis  :  "  then  thou.  the  beautiful 
and  accomplished  wife  of  our  friend  the  Chevalier 

.   thou  wert  one  of  them  :  but   from   where, 

and  by  whom  ?  " 

Pauline,  pointing  to  a  flag  upon  one  of  the  ships, 
so  small  as  to  have  escaped  the  observation  of  the 
King,  said,  "  Yes,  Sire,  I  am  one  of  the  Neutral 
French  ;  one  of  those  unfortunate  exiles,  eighteen 
thousand  of  whom  were,  twenty  years  since,  driven 
from  the  province  of  Nova  Scotia,  and  scattered  as 
paupers  among  the  now  United  States,  contrary  to 
all  their  pledges  to  us,  and  our  good- treatment  guar 
anteed  to  the  King  of  France." 

"  Ha  !  "  exclaimed  Louis.  "  I  begin  to  compre 
hend.  Traitors  and  monsters  of  cruelty  !  was  that 
the  way  it  was  done  ?  Great  God  !  "  exclaimed  he. 
clasping  his  hands,  and  raising  his  eyes,  in  which 
tears  that  did  not  disgrace  manhood  were  fast  gath 
ering,  >;  avenge  this  people  !  " 

"  Amen  !  "  said  Pauline,  fervently,  covering  her 
face,  and  sobbing  with  irrepressible  emotion. 

':  Compose  yourself,  madam,"  said  Louis,  while 
leading  her  to  a  seat  near,  and  sitting  clown  by  her 
side  ;  "  and  now  give  me  a  succinct  history  of  this 
transaction.  I  have  a  very  imperfect  idea  of  it. 
It  was,  as  you  know,  during  the  life  oi  the  King 
my  grandfather  :  his  history  was  one  long  turmoil 
with  those  ancient  enemies  of  France,  whose  aveng 
ing  sword  was  only  stayed,  in  many  instances,  by 
the  utter  impossibility  of  wielding  it." 

"  We  knew,  Sire,  that  the  King  of  France  was 
not  obligated  to  avenge  a  people,  who,  for  so  many 
years,  had  consented  to  remain  peaceable  subjects 
of  another  government :  and,  further,  we  always 
believed  France  knew  not  the  extent  of  our  wrongs, 
nor  the  treachery  with  which  we  were  beguiled 
and  finally  betrayed,  in  violation  of  the  most  sol 
emn  compact  originally  made  with  the  French  gov- 
28* 


92  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

eminent,  and  repeatedly  renewed  to  ourselves. 'r 
She  then  gave  the  monarch  a  brief  history  of  the 
transactions  connected  with  their  expulsion. 

"  And  there,  Sire,''  she  added,  rising  and  advanc 
ing  to  the  first  landscape  in  the  group,  "  there  is  a 
true  representation  of  our  happy  homes,  before  the 
spoiler  came  ;  those  deep  intervales  were  diked  as 
you  see,  and  a  vast  extent  of  country  reclaimed 
from  the  ocean  by  French  ingenuity  and  enterprise  ; 
and  oh,  what  years  of  labor  were  ruthlessly  de 
stroyed.  Those  flocks  and  herds  were  ours,  and 
ours  'the  cattle  on  a  thousand  hills;'  and  there, 
(pointing  to  the  chapel,)  after  the  manner  that  they 
called  heresy,  we  worshipped  the  God  of  our  fathers  ; 
the  cross  you  observe  the  soldier  rudely  striking 
down,  was  borne  by  one  who  would  have  succeed 
ed  our  aged  pastor  ;  his  life  was  the  sacrifice  of 
bearing  the  sacred  emblem ;  the  blow  he  received, 
he  never  recovered  from.  But  that  was  a  trifle  to 
the  sacrifice  of  human  life,  the  hundreds  who  per 
ished  in  the  woods,  in  the  pestilential  vessels,  and 
beneath  the  blighting  influence  of  a  sultry  clime. 

"  Oh,  Sire,  it  is' now  twenty-three  years  since  I 
was  transported  to  Boston  in  that  vessel  you  observe 
dashing  through  the  turbulent  sea,  and  lighted  from 
the  shore  by  the  blaze  of  our  dwellings  ;  yet  never 
from  that  hour  to  this,  has  the  memory  of  that 
terrible  transaction  faded  from  my  recollection ; 
through  all  the  subsequent  events  of  my  life,  that 
one  dark,  terrible  scene,  has  still  haunted  me,  as  if 
it  were  burnt  into  my  brain.  Acadia,  sacked  and 
ruined,  is  ever  before  me.  I  still  hear  the  moans 
of  my  unfortunate  countrymen  in  that  crowded 
ship,  as,  mingled  with  the  roar  of  wind  and  waters, 
they  ascended  to  heaven.  I  still  see  their  wasted 
forms,  lustreless  eyes,  and  despairing  countenances, 
when  landed  in  an  enemy's  country,  and  told  to 
seek  their  bread.  True,  I  have  a  beloved  mother. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  93 

sister,  and  brethren,  whom  I,  happier  than  many  of 
them,  was  permitted  to  find  again  ;  I  have  a  hus 
band,  even  dearer  :  but  never,  even  in  my  happiest 
hours  in  their  society,  have  the  miseries  of  the  Neu 
tral  French  been  forgotten.  But  God  (she  exclaim 
ed  with  energy)  has  at  length  heard  our  prayers  ; 
his  avenging  arm  is  bared,  and  is  punishing  our 
oppressors  with  the  instruments  of  their  cruelty. 
Our  cries  have  entered  into  the  ears  of  the  God  of 
Sabbaoth.  and  his  own  right  hand  is  chastising  our 
foes,  while  accomplishing  the  salvation  of  a  nation. 
America  will  be  free,  and  the  remnant  of  our  peo 
ple  saved  from  the  tyranny  of  Britain." 

'•  And  thou."  said  the  monarch,  who  had  listened 
with  breathless  attention  to  this  burst  of  enthusi 
asm,  "  thou  art  from  that  country,  fair  maiden,  and 
on  my  soul  I  believe,  already  tinctured  with  repub 
licanism  :  for  had  1  questioned  a  lady  of  my  court 
except  thyself.  I  had  never  obtained  thy  plain,  un 
varnished  tale."  (The  fair  orator  blushed  deeply 
as  she  recollected,  for  the  first  time,  the  singular 
position  she  occupied  )  "  However,  thy  story  is  a 
melancholy  one,  (taking  her  hand,)  and  thy  hus 
band  a  brave  and  worthy  man,  to  whom  France 
owes  much  for  his  services  in  Canada.  But  these 
Americans — were  they  not  the  instruments  of  en 
forcing  this  most  barbarous  edict  against  your  peo 
ple  ?  are  they  worthy  of  being  freed  from  a  master 
whose  cruel  mandates  they  have  been  so  expert  in 
fulfilling  ?  Is  it  not  just  that  they  should  be  per 
mitted  to  suffer  from  a  Power  whose  hands  they 
have  strengthened  in  this  most  unholy  warfare 
against  the  innocent  and  defenceless  ? " 

"  Please  your  Majesty/''  said  Pauline.  "  the  peo 
ple  were  deceived  ;  they  did  not  even  know,  when 
carried  by  thousands  to  Nova  Scotia,  what  they 
went  for.  I  speak  not  of  their  rulers  and  officers, 
many  of  whom,  by  a  singular  providence,  have 


94  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

fled  to  that  very  place  for  shelter  now,  to  escape 
an  exasperated  people.  In  the  affair*  of  the  Neutral 
French,  too,  pity  for  our  situation  was  much  stifled 
by  the  continual  suggestions  of  the  English,  that 
we  instigated  the  barbarities  of  the  Indians  ;  that 
unjust  accusation  often  steeled  the  hearts  of  the 
Americans,  and  indeed  awakened  their  deepest  re 
sentment  against  us.  But  from  the  time  of  our 
landing  among  them,  they  have  been  convinced  we 
were  not  a  people  to  sanction  such  cruelties,  and 
to  the  present  moment  have  treated  us  with  uni 
form  kindness." 

"  I  am  truly  happy  to  hear  it,"  said  Louis  ;  "  thou 
knowest  we  are  daily  importuned  to  assist  these 
people,  but  their  recent  defeats  are  rather  discourag 
ing.  Dost  thou  think,  Madam  D ,  their  con 
stancy  may  be  counted  on  ?  May  they  not  become 
discouraged,  and  return  to  the  yoke  of  bondage  ?  " 

"Never,  never,  Sire!"  said  Pauline,  fervently. 
"It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  enthusiasm  that 
pervades  all  ranks  ;  they  will  now  rather  perish  in 
the  wreck  of  their  country,  than  ever  again  submit 
to  British  rule  :  and — and  they  now  look  to  your 
Majesty  in  the  confidence  that,  in  commiseration  of 
their  situation,  you  will  graciously  forgive  the  sins 
they  have  been  driven  to  commit  against  your  sub 
jects" — she  hesitated — the  blood  mounted  to  the 
temples  of  Louis  the  Sixteenth — he  drew  in  his 
breath,  and,  compressing  his  lips  fervently,  sat  in 
the  attitude  of  a  man  who  waits  to  hear  more. 
The  opportunity  was  not  lost.  Sliding  gracefully 
from  her  seat  to  the  feet  of  the  monarch,  the  fair 
and  agitated  pleader  continued  :  "  And  suffer  me. 
gracious  King,  to  avail  myself  of  this  unexpected 
opportunity  to  plead  their  cause  against  that  tyrant 
nation,  that  has  not  only  been  our  scourge,  but 
drenched  their  fair  fields  in  blood,  and  already 
wrought  out  such  barbarities  as  will,  in  after  ages. 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  95 

excite  the  astonishment  and  indignation  of  man 
kind.  Remember,  great  King,  you  are  one  of  God's 
vicegerents  here  on  earth  ;  let  the  sorrowful  sigh 
ing  of  such  as  are  appointed  unto  death,  come  up 
before  thee — by  all  the  sufferings  of  the  Neutral 
French — by  long  ages  of  persevering  warfare  against 
our  ancestors — by  the  blood  shed  in  Canada,  and 
now  deluging  the  plains  of  fair  America,  be  en 
treated  to  interpose  an  arm  of  power  between  them 
and  their  oppressors  !  " 

"  Enough,"  said  Louis,  gently  raising  the  fair 
suppliant  from  the  floor  ;  "  enough,  lady,  thou  hast 
prevailed  ;  the  people  thou  hast  so  eloquently  plead 
for  shall  be  remembered.  The  movements  of  a 
nation  cannot  keep  pace  with  the  impatience  of  en 
thusiasm  ;  but,  with  the  first  favorable  omen.  I 
will  press  the  subject.  In  the  mean  time,  keep  this 
in  thine  heart;  remember,  (said  he,  solemnly,)  even 
from  the  friend  of  thy  bosom." 

il  I  pledge  myself,  gracious  King,"  said  Pauline, 
kissing  the  hand  extended  to  her.  and  dropping 
upon  it  a  tear  as  she  did  so. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  And  consecrated  ground  it  is, 

The  last,  the  hallowed  home  of  OSE, 
AViio  lives  upon  all  memories, 

Though  with  the  buried  gone."  —  HALLECK. 

AT  the  gate  of  his  chateau,  the  Chevalier  D 

received  from  the  carriage  the  exhausted  person  of 
his  wife,  blaming  himself  severely  for  the  false 
tenderness  that  impelled  him  to  leave  her  so  long, 
in  her  feeble  state  of  health,  to  sketch  pictures. 

11  But  did  you  see  the  King,  my  love  ?  you  have 
staid  a  J^»^  time." 


9f>  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

"  Yes,"  Pauline  answered  ;  "  I  had  a  very  perfect 
view  of  him  while  he  was  examining  the  land 
scapes,7'  and  then  turned  the  conversation. 

No  bad  effects  followed  the  exertion,  though 
Madam  D had  for  many  days  previous  exhib 
ited  symptoms  of  almost  alarming  indisposition  ;. 
she  had  been  afflicted  with  something  of  an  inter 
mittent  fever,  with  extreme  nervousness,  and  her 
anxious  husband  had  watched  her  countenance 
closely  ;  but  from  this  day  she  sensibly  recovered, 
and  the  Chevalier  protested,  "  that  if  it  had  been 
possible  his  wife  had  any  thing  distressing  on  her 
mind,  he  should  have  believed  it  was  suddenly  re 
moved,  and  the  wound  healed  ;  but  as  he  knew  she 
was  much  too  innocent  to  have  a  troubled  con 
science,  and  could  have  no  grief,  because  every 
wish  of  her  heart  was  gratified  as  soon  as  known, 
he  supposed  it  impossible."  Some  days  after,  they 
attended  a  court  ball,  and  their  reception  from  the 
monarch  and  his  consort  was  as  usual  gracious,  but 
there  was  no  allusion  to  the  gallery.  His  Majesty 
had  before  this  been  complimented  upon  his  supe 
rior  discernment  in  finding  out  the  disputed  paint 
ings,  the  supple  courtiers  at  once  attributing  it  to 
royal  sagacity. 

Some  little  time  after  the  interview  mentioned 
in  the  preceding  chapter,  the  news  of  the  capture  of. 
Burgoyne's  arrny  was  received  at  the  French  capi 
tal,  and  great  joy  was  felt  on  the  occasion  by  all 
the  friends  of  America.  This  event,  it  is  well 
known,  was  the  turning  point  with  the  French 
ministry — France  no  longer  refused  her  aid,  and 
the  treaty  was  speedily  made  with  the  United 
States. 

It  was  two  full  years,  before  the  affairs  of  the 
Chevalier's  deceased  kinsman  could  be  settled  ;  but, 
during  the  time,  the  burning  desire  to  be  engaged 
in  the  war  in  America,  continued  to  harass  his 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  97 

mind  and  disturb  his,  peace,  although  America  was 
doubtless  much  better  served  by  him  where  he  was, 
since  he  was  of  very  efficient  aid  during  that  sea 
son,  in  negotiating  loans  and  inducing  many  brave 
spirits  to  engage  in  the  contest,  and  enroll  their 
names  among  the  forces  destined  for  its  relief. 

"  My  dear  husband/''  Pauline  would  say,  ;'  it  is 
comparatively  easy  to  serve  a  good  cause  where 
glory  awaits  us  ;  but  that  is  true  virtue  and  true 
patriotism  that  enables  a  man  to  make  sacrifices  for 
the  public  good,  which,  from  their  nature,  must  be 
unknown,  which  must  be  done  in  secret,  where  no 
eye  but  God's  sees  the  deed.  .  It  is  true,  your  name 
will  not  shine  upon  the  pages  of  American  history, 
but  you  will  have  the  satisfaction  of  reflecting  you 
have  done  what  you  could,  and  consequently  your 
duty.  In  my  eyes,  you  are  a  greater  hero  for  re 
fraining  from  the  battle-field,  than  you  would  be  in 
returning  from  it.  If  it  is  glory  you  seek,  you  will 
be  disappointed  certainly  ;  but  if  it  is  the  real  good 
of  that  country  where  we  have  been  so  greatly 
blessed,  you  can  certainly  accomplish  more  for  them 
on  this  side  the  water,  than  your  single  arm  on  that 
could  achieve." 

Two  years  more,  peace  was  declared,  and  now 
more  serious  obstacles  intervened.  The  health  of 
the  Chevalier's  eldest  son  was  so  delicate,  the  phys 
icians  gave  it  as  their  opinion  he  could  not  in  his 
then  state  of  health  be  removed  to  America.  Old 
affections  and  associations  had  by  this  time  got 
such  hold  on  the  feelings  of  the  Chevalier,  that  he 
decided  on  passing  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  his 
native  country.  Meanwhile,  a  very  spirited  corre 
spondence  had  been  kept  up  between  the  two  sis 
ters,  and  the  letters  of  Josephine  had  often  been 
perused  in  the  first  circles  in  Paris,  and  even  at  the 
palace  royal. 

Admired  and  respected  in  France,  though  differ- 


98  THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH. 

ing  in  morals  and  manners  from  most  of  that  licen 
tious  court,  Pauline  saw  her  sons  and  daughters 
growing  up  around  her.  If  a  tear  of  regret  to  the 
memory  of  her  adopted  country  sometimes  rose,  it 
was  quickly  dried  by  the  recollection  of  the  bless 
ings  that  surrounded  her.  Once,  the  hearth  of  this 
happy  family  was  made  glad  by  the  presence  of 
Pauline's  father,  who  went  over  to  visit  this  his 
first-born  and  beloved  daughter  ;  he  strongly  urged 
the  family  to  return  to  the  United  States,  but  it 
was  now  settled  France  was  to  be  their  home,  and 
Louis,  after  a  visit  of  a  few  months,  returned  to 
his  wife. 

Nothing  very  remarkable  happened  in  the  family 
of  Pauline  from  this  time  to  the  period  of  the 
French  Revolution,  except  the  marriage  of  their 
eldest  daughter  to  a  worthy  private  gentleman  of 
France,  who,  agreeably  to  the  customs  of  the  coun 
try,  took  up  his  residence  with  the  family  of  his 
wife. 

The  Chevalier  D had  seen,  with  prophetic 

eye,  the  end  from  the  beginning  of  the  revolutiona 
ry  movements.  Enemy  as  he  was  to  arbitrary 
power,  the  idea  of  the  blood  that  must  flow  ere  the 
object  could  be  gained,  made  him  sick  at  the  heart, 
and  decided  him  to  leave  the  country  before  his 
own  safety  should  be  compromised.  Various  hin 
drances,  however,  retarded  his  departure,  the  prin 
cipal  one  of  which  was  the  difficulty  of  disposing 
of  his  property  ;  that,  however,  was  at  length  ac 
complished,  at  a  sacrifice  of  nearly  half  its  value, 
and  the  proceeds  remitted  to  America.  They, 
themselves,  unable  to  follow  immediately,  rented 
apartments  in  Paris  until  their  business  should  all 
be  settled.  Alas  !  too  soon  the  storm  burst  over 
their  heads  ;  and  it  was  while  Paris  was  in  arms, 
and  her  streets  filled  with  the  populace  that  want 
had  driven  mad,  while  the  King  was  menaced,  and 


THE    NEUTRAL    FRENCH.  99 

the  royal  residence  surrounded  by  an  armed  force, 

that  the  Chevalier  D and  Pauline  sought  and 

obtained  for  the  last  time  an  interview  with  the 
French  monarch.  The  character  of  the  Chevalier 
was  such,  that,  even  at  this  dangerous  era  in  the 
affairs  of  the  nation,  no  suspicion  attached  to  his 
name.  His  passports  for  leaving  the  kingdom  were 
readily  obtained,  and  himself  and  family  were  to  leave 
on  the  ensuing  day.  In  the  earlier  part  of  his  resi 
dence  in  Prance,  he  refused  a  high  office  about  the 
court,  and  had  subsequently  refused  to  be  a  candi 
date  for  an  obsolete  title,  which  his  friends  and  ad 
mirers  wished  revived  in  his  family,  on  his  account, 
he  always  protesting  that  his  ambition  was  satisfied 
with  the  station  of  a  private  gentleman.  This  dec 
laration,  probably,  afterwards  saved  him  his  head. 
But,  though  exasperated  at  the  folly  and  profligacy 
of  the  nobles,  there  was  a  latent  feeling  of  affec 
tion,  and  indeed  reverence,  towards  the  French 
King — the  good  natured  but  mistaken  Louis — that 
prevented  his  taking  part  with  the  revolutionists, 
and  caused  him  earnestly  to  desire  to-  save  him  if 
possible  ;  and  having  devised,  as  he  thought,  a  fea 
sible  plan,  he  procured,  as  we  before  remarked,  an 
interview  with  the  monarch,  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
conjuring  him  to  leave  the  kingdom,  when,  throw 
ing  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  doomed  King,  he 
ventured  to  use  all  the  eloquence  he  was  master  of, 
to  'prevail  on  him  to  accede  to  the  plan  he  had 
formed  for  his  escape  to  America. 

"Oh,  Sire,"  said  Pauline,  after  her  husband  had 
ineffectually  exhausted  all  his  eloquence,  and  tears 
coursed  each  other  down  her  cheeks,  "  Oh,  Sire, 
trust  to  those  who  never  would  deceive  you  ;  we 
can  get  away  safely,  and  once  in  America  3/011  are 
secure  ;  doubt  not  you  would  be  protected,  and 
every  thing  that  gratitude  could  render  would  be 
29 


100  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

done  to  make  you  happy,  and  there  you  would 
have  a  little  kingdom  in  every  heart." 

"  And  thinkest  thou,  lady,  they  would  help  me 
to  regain  my  crown  ?  they,  who  have  so  recently 
set  crowns  and  principalities  at  defiance?"  And 
he  shut  his  teeth,  and  drew  in  his  breath,  as  though 
suddenly  stung  by  some  peculiarly  exciting  thought. 

"  Indeed,  I  cannot  say,"  said  Pauline,  somewhat 
confused  ;  then,  recovering  herself,  "  I  will  not  af 
fect  to  believe  they  would  war  in  behalf  of  a  crown, 
but  I  am  sure  they  would  protect  your  Majesty's 
person." 

The  mournful  monarch  folded  his  arms  on  his 
breast,  and  for  a  moment  bent  his  eyes  on  the  floor, 
as  though  in  deep  thought ;  then  heaving  a  deep 
sigh,  he  said, 

"  It  is  in  vain,  all  in  vain.  I  cannot  believe  the 
people  of  France  will  ever  lay  violent  hands  upon 
the  person  of  their  sovereign  ;  but  should  that  be 
the  event,  I  will  die  like  a  King." 

"  Alas  !  alas  !  "  said  Pauline,  wringing  her  hands. 
"  Of  what  consequence  will  it  be,  Sire,  in  the  eter 
nal  world,  whether  you  died  as  a  man  or  a  King  ? 
Be  persuaded,  most  gracious  and  beloved  prince,  to 
follow  the  leadings  of  Providence,  and  escape  while 
it  is  possible.  Indeed,  indeed,  Sire,  you  are  not 
safe  !  " 

"  Then  why  not  stay  and  assist  me  ?  "  demanded 
the  King. 

"  Because,"  said  the  Chevalier,  "  my  single  arm, 
opposed  to  all  France,  my  liege,  would  avail  you 
nothing." 

"  Farewell,  then  ! "  said  the  afflicted  monarch, 
extending  his  hand  to  break  up  the  conference, 
while  a  slight  shade  of  resentment  seemed  to  min 
gle  with  his  grief. 

But  if  there  was  a  feeling  of  anger  at  being  thus 
plainly  told  the  truth,  it  was  quickly  banished, 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  101 

when  the  distressed  couple  pressed  their  quivering 
lips  for  the  last  time  to  his  royal  hand,  and  literally 
bathed  it  with  their  tears. 

"  Dear  lady,"  said  Louis,  "  I  might  almost  be 
lieve  your  acquaintance  was  a  sad  omen  ;  the  first 
time  I  ever  conversed  with  you.  you  left  a  tear 
;  pon  my  hand." 

The  hurry  and  terror  of  departure,  left  little  lime 
for  the  gratification  of  curiosity,  and  it  was  not 
until  they  were  fairly  on  their  voyage,  that  the 
Chevalier  asked  and  obtained  the  explanation  of  the 
monarch's  last  words.  "Ah!  Pauline,  Pauline," 
said  the  husband,  shaking  his  head,  "  I  never  doubt 
ed  my  wife,  thank  heaven-,  but  your  explanation 
has  cleared  up  a  mystery  that  has  puzzled  me  for 
many  a  year.  The  state  of  excitement  in  which 
you  returned  from  the  Louvre,  did  not  escape  my 
observation,  but,  knowing  your  prudence,  I  doubt 
ed  not  there  was  some  very  good  reason  for  with 
holding  your  confidence." 

The  children  of  this  excellent  pair  expressed  the 
deepest  regret  on  leaving  France,  particularly  the 
two  eldest  sons,  and  the  eldest  daughter,  who  was 
now  married,  and,  with  her  husband,  accompanied 
Pauline  to  America. 

As  the  receding  shores  of  France  faded  front  their 
view,  Pauline  felt  the  big  tears  coursing  down  her 
cheeks,  and  her  bosom  swell  with  the  recollection 
of  the  blessings  that  had  there  been  dispensed  to 
herself  and  family,  and  drawing  herself  apart  from 
the  group,  she  stood  with  clasped  hands  in  mental 
prayer  for  those  her  late  dear  companions  who  had 
sought  to  render  her  delightful  home  still  more  de 
lightful,  and  who,  whatever  their  political  sins 
might  have  been,  had  unvaryingly  manifested  them 
selves  her  friends  ;  nor  did  she  forget  him  who,  in 
the  day  of  adversity,  had  proved  himself  America's 
fast  friend,  who  had  advanced  to  the  rescue  and 


102  THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH. 

stood  in  the  breach.  "  Oh,  God!  "  she  exclaimed, 
"perhaps  his  blood  may  soon  be  made  to  flow  ;  if 
it  be  possible,  spare  him,  aid,  succor,  preserve  him 
for  future  mercies  ;  but  if  it  be  thy  will  that  he 
should  lose  his  crown  in  this  world,  may  it  be  re 
placed  by  one  which  shall  endure  through  endless 
ages,  even  a  heavenly  one." 

But  how  different  were  her  feelings  as  she  ap 
proached  Boston  for  the  second  time,  a  voluntary 
exile  from  the  land  of  her  fathers.  "  Who,"  said 
the  still  animated  Pauline,  laying  her  hand  upon  the 
arm  of  the  Chevalier,  "  who  would  have  believed, 
when  our  wretched  countrymen  were  forced  upon 
these  shores,  that  any  of  them,  in  after  years, 
should  seek  them  as  a  refuge  from  that  happy 
Prance  to  which  we  then  looked  as  a  second  heav 
en — that  the  dreaded  country,  where  our  expatria 
ted  people  were  to  be  scattered,  was  soon  to  be  the 
refuge  of  the  oppressed  of  all  the  earth,  the  stran 
ger's  home,  the  pilgrim's  shrine,  the  star  of  hope 
to  the  distant  captive,  and  the  home  of  liberty  to 
all  within  its  borders  ?  " 

They  were  bound  to  the  port  of  Boston,  and 
like  all  other  voyages  Pauline  had  ever  taken,  she 
thought  it  a  rough  one.  Nothing  could  exceed  the 
joy  of*this  affectionate  family  at  their  reunion.  The 
family  of  Josephine  had  counted  hour  by  hour  after 
they  heard  of  the  troubles  in  France,  and  were 
apprised  of  the  remittance  of  Monsieur's  property. 
"  Oh,  Pauline,"  exclaimed  Josephine,  as  she  hung 
round  the  neck  of  her  sister,  "  you  were  born  to 
witness  revolutions ;  this  is  the  third  you  have  been 
involved  in." 

"  My  dear  sister,"  returned  Pauline,  "would  that 
every  revolution  could  end  like  that  of  this  favored 
land  ;  but,  alas !  for  France  I  fear.  Let  us  rejoice 
that  our  beneficent  Creator  has  placed  us  in  the 
only  land  where,  true  liberty  is  to  be  found.  I 


THE  NEUTRAL  FRENCH.  103 

have,  as  you  know,  traversed  Europe  within  the 
last  few  years,  on  account  of  the  health  of  our 
eldest  son,  and  I  have  seen  no  country  where  true 
liberty  is  enjoyed.  It  is  not  in  sunny  Italy,  in 
despotic  Russia,  or  magnificent  Austria,  far  less  in 
proud  and  imperious  Britain.  France,  beautiful 
France  has  it  not ;  her  dear,  deluded  monarch, 
though  he  could  see  the  oppressions  under  which 
America  groaned,  could  not  discern  the  abuses  of  his 
own  government,  blinded  as  he  was  by  those  whose 
interest  it  was  that  the  many  should  suffer  that  the 
few  might  riot.  That  is  arid  must  be  the  best 
government,  that  decrees  the  greatest  good  to  the 
greatest  number — it  is  the  people,  emphatically  the 
people,  whose  happiness  and  safety  a  righteous 
government  will  look  to.  By  the  people  I  mean 
that  class  called  the  canaille  in  France,  the  rabble 
in  England,  and  in  this  happy  land  alone  denomi 
nated  the  PEOPLE." 


END    OF    VOLUME    SECOND. 


29* 


APPENDIX. 


We  insert  copies  of  a  few  of  the  letters  relating  to  the 
removal  of  the  Neutrals,  now  in  possession  of  the  Massa 
chusetts  Historical  Society.  They  only  confirm  the  truth 
of  this  Story,  and  exhibit  the  indecent  levity,  as  well 
as  heartless  cruelty  with  which  it  was  managed.  In  a 
Book  of  State  papers,  published  by  Robert  Walsh,  is  a 
decryption  of  the  situation  of  those  of  the  unfortunate  beings 
landed  at  Philadelphia.  The  Society  of  Friends  took  these 
unhappy  people  under  their  protection,  and  in  addition  to 
their  own  means,  bespoke  fbr  them  the  sympathy  of  the 
public,  and  procured  a  large  contribution  for  their  relief. — 
A  List  of  the  sick  and  insane  among  them  accompanies  the 
Document,  the  latter  they  denominate  idiots.  It  is  a  fact, 
that  the  astounding  calamities  that  befell  them,  reduced 
many  of  them  to  this  state ! ! ! 

GRAND  PRE,  30th  August,  1755. 
To  Gov.  LAWRENCE, 

I  am  favoured  with  your  Excellency's  letters  of  the  llth 
and  26th  of  this  instant,  which  Capt.  Murray  was  so  good 
as  to  be  the  bearer  of,  and  with  whom  I  have  consulted  as 
to  the  duty  proposed  ;  and  as  the  corn  is  now  all  down,  the 
weather  being  such,  has  prevented  the  inhabitants  from 
housing  it,  it  i^Tiis  opinion  and  mine,  that  your  Excellency's 
orders  should  not  be  made  public  till  next  Friday ;  on  which 
day  we  propose  to  put  them  in  execution.  We  had  pick- 
etted  in  the  camp  before  the  receipt  of  your  Excellency's 
letter,  and  I  imagine  it  is  so  far  from  giving  surprise  to  the 
inhabitants,  as  to  their  being  detained,  that  they  look  upon 
it  a  settled  point,  that  we  are  to  remain  with  them  all  winter ; 
and  as  this  duty  is  of  no  expense  to  Government,  I  cannot 
but  flatter  myself  your  Excellency  will  approve  of  the  mat- 


106  APPENDIX. 

ter,  as  fifty  men  to  remain  will  be  better  in  our  present 
circumstances,  than  one  hundred  without  this  protection,  and 
the  other  part  of  the  troops  put  on  duty  abroad.  As  to  the 
supplying  of  ammunition,  &c.  I  shall  apprise  Colonel  Monc- 
ton  as  directed,  and  in  every  material  point  shall  counsel 
Captain  Murray  ;  and  although  it  is  a  disagreeable  part  of 
duty  we  are  put  upon,  I  am  sensible  it  is  a  necessary  one, 
and  shall  endeavor  strictly  to  obey  your  Excellency's  orders, 
to  do  every  thing  in  me  to  remove  the  neighbors  about  me 
to  a  better  country;  as  to  poor  father  Le  Blanc,  I  shall, 
with  your  Excellency's  permission,  send  him  to  my  own 
place.  I  am,  with  the  greatest  regard,  your  Excellency's 
most  dutiful  and  obedient  servant. 

(Signed)  JOHN  WINSLOW. 


23d  September. 

This  morning  Capt.  Adams  and  party  returned  from  their 
march  to  the  river  Canard,  and  reported  it  was  a  fine  coun 
try  and  full  of  inhabitants,  a  beautiful  church,  abundance 
of  the  good  of  this  world,  provisions  of  all  kinds  in  great 
plenty.  Capt.  Holby  ordered  with  one  subaltern,  two  ser 
geants,  two  corporals,  and  fifty  private  men,  to  visit  the 
village  Molanson  on  the  river  Gaspereau,  and  Capt.  Os- 
good,  with  the  like  number  of  officers  and  men,  to  recon 
noitre  the  county  in  the  front,  or  to  the  southward  of  our 
encampment,  both  of  which  parties  returned  in  the  evening, 
and  gave  each  account  that  it  was  a  fine  country.  This 
day  held  a  consultation  with  the  different  Captains — the 
result  was,  that  I  should  give  out  my  citation  to-morrow 
morning.  JOHN  WINSLOW, 

Lieut.  Col.  Commanding. 


FORT  EDWARD,  1755. 

I  was  out  yesterday  at  the  villages,  all  the  people  were 
quiet  and  busy  at  the  harvest ;  if  this  day  keeps  fair,  all 
will  be  in  here  into  their  barns.  I  hope  to-morrow  will 
crown  all  our  wishes.  I  am  most  truly,  with  great  esteem, 
your  most  obedient  and  humble  servant, 

A.  MURRAY. 


APPENDIX.  107 

GRAND  PRE,  5th  September,  1755. 
All  officers,  soldiers  and  seamen,  employed  in  his  Majes 
ty's  service,  as  well  as  all  his  subjects,  of  what  denomina 
tion  soever,  are  hereby  notified,  that  all  cattle,  viz.  horses, 
horned  cattle,  sheep,  goats,  hogs,  and  poultry  of  every  kind, 
that  was  this  day  supposed  to  be  vested  in  the  French 
inhabitants  of  this  Province,  are  become  forfeited  to  his 
Majesty,  whose  property  they  now  are ;  and  every  person, 
of  what  denomination  soever,  is  to  take  care  not  to  hurt, 
destroy  or  kill,  any  of  any  kind,  nor  to  rob  orchards  or 
gardens,  or  to  make  waste  of  any  thing  dead  or  alive,  in 
these  districts,  without  special  order  given  at  my  camp,  the 
day  and  place  above  to  be  published  throughout  the  camp, 
and  at  the  village  where  the  vessels  lie. 

JOHN  WINSLOW. 


ANNAPOLIS  ROYAL*  31st  August,  1755. 
One  of  the  transports  having  arrived  from  Messrs.  Ap- 
thorp  and  Hancock,  hired  to  carry  off  the  French  inhabi 
tants  of  this  River,  immediately  ordered  out  a  party  to  bring 
in  about  one  hundred  of  the  heads  of  families  who  had  re 
tired  into  the  woods,  having  taken  their  bedding  with  them  ; 
therefore  I  am  to  desire  you  to  send  me  a  reinforcement  of 
men,  so  soon  as  you  can  spare  them,  that  may  enable  me 
to  bring  them  to  reason. 

I  am,  Sir, 

Your  most  humble  servant, 

J.  HANFIELD. 
On  his  Majesty's  service, 
To  Col.  John  Winslow,  Commanding 
the  troops  at  Grand  Pre,  Minas. 


FORT  EDWARD,  5th  September,  1755. 
Dear  Sir. — I  have  succeeded  finely,  and  have  got  183 
men  into  my  possession.  I  believe  there  are  but  very  few 
left,  excepting  their  sick.  I  am  hopeful  you  have  had 
equally  as  good  luck,  should  be  glad  you  would  send  me 
transports  as  soon  as  possible  for  you  know  our  fort  is  but 
small ;  I  should  also  esteem  it  a  favor  if  vou  could  also 


108  APPENDIX. 

send  me  an  officer  and  thirty  men  more  as  I  shall  be  obliged, 
to  send  to  some  distant  rivers,  where  they  are  not  all  come 
yet.  Your  answer  as  soon  as  possible,  will  greatly  oblige 
your  most  obedient  humble  servant. 

A.  MURRAY. 

P.  S. — I  have  sent  father  Le  Blanc's  son  to  you,  to  go 
with  his  father,  as  you  have  taken  him  under  your  pro 
tection.  At  the  nearest  computation,  it  will  require  360 
tons  of  shipping,  which  I  think  at  the  least  computation  too 
small ;  therefore  I  believe  400  tons  will  be  better, — since 
writing  the  above,  two  of  the  transports  have  arrived. 

A.  MURRAY. 

To  Col.  Winslow,  Commanding 
His  Majesty's  forces  at  Grand  Pre. 


GRAND  PRE,  5th  September,  1775. 
The  order  of  the  day  parole  being  Prince  of  Wales,  th;- 
French  inhabitants  to  repair  to  their  quarters,  in  the  church 
at  Tattoo,  and  in  the  day  time  not  to  extend  their  walks  be 
yond  the  Commandant's  quarters  on  the  east,  without  !<"!v<_- 
from  the  officer  of  the  guard,  and  that  one  half  tin; 
take  shelter  under  my  Marque,  as  patrole,  a  sergeant,  and 
twelve  men,  to  walk  constantly  round  the  church — the  cei,- 
tries  every  where  to  be  doubled. 

JOHN  WINSLOW. 

P.  S. — Sept.  5. — The  French  people  not  having  with 
them  any  provisions,  and  many  of  them  pleading  hunger, 
begged  for  bread,  on  which  I  gave  them,  and  ordered  that 
for  the  future,  they  be  supplied  from  their  respective  fami 
lies.  Thus  ended  the  memorable  fifth  of  September,  a  day 
of  great  fatigue  and  trouble.  J.  W. 


FORT  CUMBERLAND,  24th  August,  1775. 
Dear  Sir — I  embrace  this  opportunity  with  pleasure,  to 
let  you  know  that  these  leave  me  and  all  friends,  as  1  hope 
they  will  find  you,  in  good  hea.tb,  and  we  rejoice  to  hear 
of  your  safe  arrival  at  Minas,  and  am  well  pleased  that  you 
are  provided  with  so  good  quarters  for  yourself  and  soldiers, 
and  as  you  have  taken  possession  of  the  friar's  house,  hope 


APPENDIX.  109 

you  will  execute  the  office  of  priest.  I  am  tired  of  your 
absence,  and  long  for  nothing  more  thr.n  to  be  with  you  ; 
here- is  Capt.  Proby  and  eight  transports,  arrived  last  Wed 
nesday  ;  Capt.  Taggart  arrived  this  morning,  and  a  sloop 
from  New-York  with  provisions  for  the  troops,  the  news 
has  not  yet  come  on  shore,  our  troops  remain  in  good  health, 
and  long  to  follow  you.  Yours,  &c. 

PREBBLE. 
To  Col.  Winslow,  com 
manding  at  Minas. 


CA?.IP  AT  CUMBERLAND,  5th  Sept.  1775. 

Dear  Sir — I  received  your  favor  from  Captain  Nichols, 
<»f  the:  23d  Aug.  rejoice  to  hear  that  the  lines  are  fallen  to 
you  in  pleasant  hands,  and  that  you  have  a -goodly  heritage. 
I  understand  you  are  surrounded  by  good  things  of  tin's 
war!;],  and  having  a  sanctified  place  for  your  habitation,  hope 
you  will  be  prepared  for  the  enjoyments  of  another ;  we 
are  mouldering  away  our  time  in  your  absence,  which  has 
rendered  this  place  to  me  worse  than  a  prison  ;  we  have 
only  this  to  comfort  us,  that  we  are  as  nigh  heaven  as  you 
are  at  Minas,  and  since  we  are  denied  the  good  things  in 
tin's  world,  doubt  not  we  shall  be  happy  in  the  next.  It  Is 
with  grief  I  inform  you,  that  on  the  second  instant,  Major 
Fryo,  being  at  Shepoudie,  where  he  was  ordered  to  burn 
the  buildings  and  bring  off  the  women  and  children,  the 
number  of  which  was  only  twenty-three,  which  he  had  sent 
on  board,  and  burned  '253  buildings,  and  had  sent  fifty  men 
on  shore  to  burn  the  Mess  House  and  some  other  buildings 
v/hich  was  the  last  they  had  to  do,  when  about  three  hun 
dred  French  and  Indians  came  suddenly  upon  them,  and 
killed  Doctor  Marsh,  shot  Lieut.  Billing  through  the  body, 
and  through  the  arm,  killed  and  wounded  22,  and  wounded 
six  more ;  they  retreated  to  the  dykes,  and  Major  Frye 
landed  with  what  men  we  got  on  shore  and  made  a  stand, 
but  their  numbers  being  superior  to  ours  ;  we  were  forced 
to  retreat. — Y'our  sincere  friend, 

JEDEDIAH  PREBBLE. 
To  Col.  Winslow,  Command. 

;   _•  the  troops  at  Minas. 


IURN      CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

—  ^      202  Main  Library 

^N  PERIOD  1 
IOME  USE 

2 

3 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

1  -month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405 

6-month  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing  books  to  Circulation  Desk 

Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  due  date 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


*/» 


VUTO-  DISC 


uu 


0  9 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 
NO.  DD6,  60m,  12/80        BERKELEY  CA  94720 

®s 


RCC'DLD 


571-4PN1'^ 


LD  21-100m-8,'34 


GENERAL  LIBRARY  -  U.C.  BERKELEY 


Boomoaoi? 


269058 


F?Q  33 

.Ws 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


